Finally Found You
by Natoushka
Summary: Derek and Stiles have been a conflicting force since they first met, but certain circumstances brings them together and forces them to realize their true attraction. However, a night of passion leads to heavy consequences when Stiles gets pregnant, and matters are further complicated by a new threat in Beacon Hills, which unites the whole pack. Set after season 4, GIRL STILES.
1. Chapter 1

So this is my first fan fiction… please go easy on me! But I would love your reviews

Set a year-ish after season 4, with a girl Stiles. I will (hopefully) be adding a new chapter every day or so.

Chapter One

It was a big night for a few reasons. Not only was it Stiles 18th birthday – it was the first day of Spring Break, and Lydia Martin was throwing one of her famous go-big-or-go-home parties to celebrate the two coinciding occasions. It had only been a month since Lydia had turned 18 and had thrown a ridiculously extravagant party for herself, of which Stiles was sure her body was still recovering from, but Lydia refused to relinquish the prospect to throw a party for her best friend. They were finishing school in two months and the opportunities to bring her classmates together were growing fewer as graduation neared.

Stiles had never really been one for large social gatherings, yet lately she had been conditioning herself to enjoy life. It had almost been a year since anything major had occurred in Beacon Hills. No Alpha Packs, no Deapools, Peter Hale was still imprisoned in Eichen House, her relationship with her father and friends had never been better. Everything was going great. Except one. Stiles was still a virgin.

She'd never had the chance to lose it during all the chaos after her best friend Scott was transformed into a teen werewolf, and since then she'd been too focused on getting her grades up and stabilizing her life to even think twice about sex. She wasn't particularly interested in having a boyfriend or falling in love or any of that crap Scott was always going on about, she just wanted to have sex. So, it being her 18th birthday, Stiles didn't see why that night couldn't bet the night she finally got her wish.

She arrived at Lydia's in the afternoon to help set up – to ensure Lydia didn't go too over the top with the decorations – and also to get the beauty treatment. Stiles was hopeless at putting on makeup and picking out attractive clothes to wear, so she let Lydia do all the work. Stiles didn't have the "sexiest" figure to work with; she was all skinny and flat in the areas that meant the most. Ultimately, for Stiles Lydia settled on a pair of tight leather leggings with matching black wedge heels and a red crop top and lipstick to match. Stiles felt uncomfortable with her stomach showing and heels so high she thought her head would hit the ceiling, but Lydia assured her it would attract the boys.

They had a few glasses of celebratory champagne, which Stiles found disgusting, yet drank it anyway because Lydia was, and turned up the music as the guests started rolling in. Scott, Kira, Malia and Liam were some of the first to arrive. They all raised their eyebrows at the site of slutted-up Stiles greeting them.

"Wow, Stiles, you look …" Scott trailed off, eyeing his best friend, whom he honestly sometimes forgot was in fact a girl.

"You look fantastic!" Kira finished for him. "Happy birthday!"

"Yeah … fantastic. Happy birthday, Stiles." Scott said, still befuddled.

"You look like a prostitute." Malia said blatantly.

"I'm going to try and take that as a compliment!" Stiles beamed optimistically, or maybe it was the two glasses of champagne. Either way she didn't care – she had a good feeling about that night.

It didn't take long for the night to get slightly out of hand. Lydia invited way more guests than Stiles had permitted, but at that moment Stiles was much too inebriated to care. She knew most of the people were only there because it was a Lydia Martin party, not for her.

She, Lydia, Kira and Malia stood by the pool, scanning the scene for a potential hook-up for Stiles. In her effort to seem more laid-back and cool, Stiles had drunk a lot of alcohol. A LOT. Her mind had shifted from thinking about sex to focusing all her might to stay upright. She just wanted to sleep. She tried to listen to the sound of the girls suggestions for guys, but she was fading. Her alcohol soaked brain concluded that she needed a shot of tequila to pick herself up.

She snuck away from the others and headed inside to the Martin's billiard room where she knew all the hard liquor was stored. After downing a shot – or two – of tequila, she did indeed feel a pick up, but it was her lunch trying to pick itself out of her stomach. As the nearest and safest place to hurl was a few metres away in the Martin's rose bushes by the front door, Stiles slid across the floorboards on her heels like a giraffe in roller-skates. She ripped open the heavy front door and successfully directed her vomit into the garden. She felt sorry for the roses, but it was better than throwing up on the floor inside or missing the toilet bowl.

"Are you alright?" she heard a man's voice say. She quickly wiped her mouth and spun around to see Derek Hale walking up the front driveway towards her. He stopped mid-step when he saw who the party girl before him was. It was Stiles. Flannelette wearing, clumsy, hyperactive, boyish Stiles. But this Stiles was, dared he think it, sexy. The high heels and tight leather leggings showed off her skinny legs. Legs that were usually covered by jeans or hidden under a baggy shirt. He was taken aback.

"Derek?" she squinted at him, her vision blurry. "What are you doing here?"

"I … was actually looking for you," he said, still caught off-guard by Stiles appearance.

"Me? What, you don't know how to use a phone?" she asked.

"You don't know how to answer one?" he snapped back. She realized she hadn't checked her phone since before the party began. She fumbled around her thighs trying to find her phone but she remembered she didn't have any pockets. It must have been inside.

"What do you want? Don't you know it's my birthday? I'm trying to get laid," she said, slurring her words. Derek raised his eyebrows.

"Maybe I should talk to you tomorrow," he said, and began walking back the way he had come.

"No no no no no, wait!" Stiles called, chasing after him quite pathetically. "Say what you wanted to say."

Derek sighed, "I just…need your help."

Stiles laughed, "Look at that, the great mighty Derek Hale needs _my _help."

Derek tapped her shoulder lightly and she wobbled, almost losing her balance.

"Not cool!" she huffed. "Fine, I'll help you. But I'm probably going to need tomorrow off to recover. Monday morning, call me."

"Alright," Derek shook his head, and continued to walk away. "Drink some water, Stiles."

Stiles watched as Derek disappeared into the shadows. Damn if he wasn't fine as hell, she thought. But such a sourwolf, what a shame. She turned back to the party raging inside and took a deep breath, determined to complete her night's mission.


	2. Chapter 2

Here's chapter two! Hope you are all liking it so far, there's plenty more to come, enjoy! (And please review if you have any opinions/issues/praises) x

**Chapter Two**

Stiles had never felt so ashamed in her life. Not only had she completely humiliated herself, thrown up on the Martin's rose bushes, but she had also miserably failed in her mission to lose her virginity. She thought she was doomed to go to college a virgin. The day after the party was a horrible day for Stiles. She had woken up in the Martin's guest room, a vomit bucket beside her bed, alone, and fully dressed in the pyjama's she had brought with her: sweatpants and a baggy t-shirt. Yep, she had definitely NOT been laid last night.

It was still somewhat early in the morning and she sensed no one else would be awake, so she gathered her belongings, wrote a thank-you note to Lydia and an apology note to Ms Martin and snuck out of the house. Her father had dropped her off the previous night so she had to walk home, which she felt she needed to clear her head. She couldn't be bothered changing her sweatpants but she switched her stained shirt for a singlet and hoodie and began the walk. Halfway there she began feeling the effects of her hangover: pounding head, nausea, the sweats. Luckily, she happened to pass a gas station, so she stopped in to buy a Gatorade and something greasy to digest.

Because she was so hungover, it took her a while to notice something was off about the inside of the station. One of the front windows had been smashed. Her supernatural-sense started tingling and she felt somewhat panicked. She collected her items and placed them on the front counter.

"What happened there?" she pointed to the smashed window as the cashier rung up her items.

"Just some young guys," he answered gruffly, clearly not happy with the state of his shop.

"What did they want? Did they rob you?" Stiles continued to question.

"Just drunk, I think," he said. "Didn't steal any money though."

Stiles paid and thanked the man, stole once last glance at the window, then left. She decided not to worry about it any further and finished the walk home. It was about eight o'clock by the time she got there, and her father was about to leave for work. He frowned at her dishevelled appearance as she slumped down at the kitchen table, where he was eating a bowl of cereal.

"Christ, Stiles," he said. "You reek."

"And _you_ should be eating fruit," she quipped. He looked down at his bowl sheepishly.

"Yeah, well I was hoping that you wouldn't be hope so early," he grinned. Normally Stiles would have rung him out for this, but she was too drained.

"You alright?" he asked, noticing Stiles demeanour.

"I just… had higher expectations for last night," she sighed.

"That's what you get for underage drinking," the Sheriff laughed. Stiles made a face at him and then they said good-bye. Stiles went straight to her room and back to sleep.

Even though it was Spring Break, the pack had agreed not to do anything for it. Scott didn't feel comfortable leaving Liam alone and Kira wanted to stay with Scott, and Malia, Lydia and Stiles wanted to relax. They had all worked so hard in the past year to get their lives back on track, and boy had it been exhausting. It was going to nice not to have to study or plan anything or be at school. They just wanted to be normal teenagers for one week, and now they had the chance. Of course, Stiles had jinxed herself thinking this would happen, by thinking her life could ever be anything but hectic – be it with school or the supernatural – for five minutes.

It started the next night, Monday, when Stiles was catching up on some Xbox. There were so many games that she had not had the time to play, and she was making full use of her free time. She left her room to go to the bathroom and when she got back, Derek Hale was standing in the middle of her room.

"Jesus!" she yelled, nearly tripping over her own feet. She quickly shut the door behind her, not wanting her Dad to walk in. He knew all about the supernatural, but he wouldn't approve of a grown man/shape shifting werewolf being in her bedroom.

"What are you doing here?" she hissed, trying not to raise her voice. She thought the days of him showing up in her bedroom were long gone.

"You didn't answer your phone. Again," he said.

"What do you want?" she demanded.

"You don't remember our conversation the other night?" he asked. Stiles felt the colour drain from her face. What conversation?!

"Err…no?"

"You _were_ pretty drunk," he informed her.

"Oh god what did I say? What happened?" she groaned, embarrassed.

"Typical drunk teenage girl stuff. You were trying to get laid, or something," he said. She put her face in her hands, hiding her shame.

"Sorry," she sighed. "I'm not usually like that."

"I know. You're usually an idiot," he smiled. Stiles crossed her arms over her chest.

"So what do you want?" she snapped.

"I need your help with a…supernatural thing," he said.

"No way, I'm done with all that," she retorted.

"That's not what you said the other night. You said you'd help me."

"I also said I was going to get laid and lose my virginity and not be an 18-year-old virgin, but that didn't happen either!" she yelled. She flopped onto her bed and put her arms over her face. She didn't want to see Derek's reaction to what she had said. There was silence for a while.

"I wouldn't be asking for your help if I didn't need it," Derek said eventually.

"I know," she breathed.

"So…you'll help?"

"I guess. What do you need?" she gave in.

"Just come pick me up from the loft tomorrow night, at eight, we'll take it from there."

"Okay."

When Stiles looked up, Derek was gone. She moved up the bed and buried her head in a pillow. She wasn't a religious person, but at that moment, she prayed. The last thing she needed right now was another Beacon Hills supernatural drama to mess up the steady life she had formed. But if Derek Hale was asking for her help, it had to be something.

She was _not_ looking forward to the next night.


	3. Chapter 3

Third one! It's a bit shorter than usual, but I think I'll have the fourth up within the next few hours. Remember to review/like etc. Thanks x

**Chapter Three**

The next night, Tuesday, came surprisingly quickly for Stiles, despite the fact that she was dreading it with every inch of her being. She decided not to tell Scott or the others, she didn't want to worry them as much as she was, and if Derek wanted them involved, he would have told them. She went by Derek's loft at eight o'clock sharp. He was already waiting for her out the front of the building, and climbed into her Jeep without a word.

"So where we going?" she asked, trying to lighten the mood.

"Gas station at the edge of town, near your house," he said.

Stiles swallowed the lump that grew in her throat, but didn't say anything. She obeyed his instructions and drove to the gas station that she had passed through a couple of days ago after returning from Lydia's party, the one with the smashed window.

As they neared it, Derek spoke, "Park about a hundred metres away."

She pulled over to the side of the road with the gas station just insight, and switched off the engine. Derek didn't say anything, for a _long _time. He simply sat there staring at the station. Half an hour went by before Stiles grew agitated.

"What are we doing here?" she asked.

"Watching," he said.

"Yeah I got that, but what are we watching?" she pushed.

"The gas station."

"Why?"

Derek turned to face her and let out an exasperated breath.

"Because a few nights ago two men rattled the place up," he said. "I think they were werewolves."

"Wolves? Like Scott and Liam?"

"Yes. Maybe Omegas."

"Okay. But why are we here? And why me?" she questioned.

"I want to see if they come back, and if they do, you're going to go in and suss them out," he tells her.

"What?! You can't be serious!"

"I can't do it, and neither can Scott or the others, they'll be able to tell that they're supernatural, it'll be dangerous for them. But you, you're just another human to them," he explains. Stiles frowned, but she knew he was right.

"So we're just going to sit here all night and hope they show up?" she asked.

"Yes."

"Can I put some music on?"

"No, it'll interfere with my hearing."

She groaned and put her feet up on the dash. Thank god she had thought to put her PSP in her bag. She pulled it out, muted the volume, and started playing, trying her best to block out Derek's negativity and the anxious thoughts running through her head.

Stiles wasn't aware she had fallen asleep until she heard the beep of her car horn. Startled, she jerked in her seat and sat upright, eyes wide and ready for anything. Outside the sun was just coming up and there was a cool pink glow in the sky. She looked beside her to see Derek still there, his hand resting on the car horn. Her watch told her it was five in the morning.

"When did I fall asleep?" she asked, rubbing her sleepy eyes.

"Around midnight," Derek told her.

"I'm guessing you didn't see anything?"

"Nope," he said quietly. Stiles could hear the frustration in his voice.

"Oh well, at least that means no trouble for us. Can we go now?"

"Yes."

Stiles started the Jeep and took Derek home. She wondered whether he had slept at all last night, probably not. She tried to imagine him sleeping, his brow unfurrowed and peaceful, but she just couldn't picture it. When was Derek Hale ever at rest? She pulled up outside of Derek's building.

"Same time, tonight," he said, climbing out of the car.

"What? We're doing this again?" she asked desperately.

"Yes, Stiles," he growled. "We'll have to do it for about a week, just to make sure."

Stiles purposefully let out a strangled groan and put her head on the steering wheel. Once Derek had left, she went home, and into her bed. She wanted to cry, to scream. This was not how she imagined spending her Spring Break. She hoped that all this would amount to nothing, that the other werewolves were simply passing through and wouldn't return. The best-case scenario in this was that Stiles would have to spend every night for the next week or so sleeping in her car, next to Derek Hale.

_Derek Hale_. She hissed the name in her head. Derek-freakin-Hale. He wasn't a bad person. He'd done bad things, but he'd definitely reformed himself over time. It hadn't changed anything between them though, he was still frustrating and she was still irritable. They weren't a good combination. Everyone else in her life had accepted her for who she was: a goofy, skinny, hyperactive, mischief-maker, but not Derek. He didn't understand her. She put up walls of sarcasm and humour and quirkiness to hide the fact that she was a fragile person on the inside. Her friends, her father, they knew. If Stiles didn't laugh about a situation, she would cry, and she wouldn't have that.

Maybe she could use this opportunity to show Derek that she was not just a silly teenage girl, that he should take her seriously.


	4. Chapter 4

Here's 4! It's a really short one, but only because 5 is going to be kind of long. I'm having a big writing surge atm so I may or may not have 5 up in the next few hours… we'll see. Things are going to start heating up! Thanks x

**Chapter Four**

They developed a routine over the next few nights. Stiles would have the day to herself to do whatever she pleased, which mainly consisted of playing Xbox with Scott or hanging out with her Dad in his free time, and at eight o'clock each night, she would pick up Derek and they would park in the same spot, and watch. Well, Derek watched. Stiles sat silently and played her PSP or read a book with a torch and then eventually fall asleep at some point only to be awoken by Derek in the morning. 5am sharp.

On the fourth night of their stake out, Friday, Stiles had grown agitated. There hadn't been any sighting of the werewolves and she was beginning to feel it was a big waste of time. She was bored with her PSP games and wasn't in the mood for reading, so she sat restlessly in her seat, fidgeting.

"_Stiles_," Derek growled.

"What?"

Derek turned his head toward her slowly, his jaw clenched.

"Stop. Fidgeting," he said quietly, but threatening.

"I'm bored. So sue me," she sighed.

"Be patient," Derek said, turning his gaze back towards the gas station.

"I _can't_, okay? I'm kind of an impatient person if you haven't noticed. Hell, I'm surprised I lasted this long before losing it," she told him. "So, can we give this up? They're clearly not coming back."

"No," Derek barked. "I know you have _so much_ going on in your exciting virgin-Xbox-playing-teenage life, but this is more important than that."

Stiles was hurt. She could almost physically feel it. She tried to think of a witty or sarcastic reply to shut him down so he wouldn't know he'd hurt her feelings, yet nothing came to mind. Stiles' mind was blank, quite a rarity.

Instead, she said, "You're right," then put her seat down and turned away from Derek, pretending to go to sleep.

Normally it was easy for her to push aside Derek Hale's comments; he'd been dishing them out to her for a long time. So why did it bother her now? Was it because that for the first time, she realized that without all the chaos and drama in Beacon Hills, her life – and she – was ordinary? When she really thought about it, she had no redeeming qualities. She was a smart-arse, impulsive, sarcastic. The only thing she had going for her was her loyalty and dedication to her friends, but she hadn't shown those qualities lately, there was no need for it. Her friends were not in danger.

It was a long night for Stiles, but gradually it was over. The first thing she did was fall onto her bed and let out the tears she had been holding in all night. She had refused to let Derek see her cry, but she needed a good sob, so she let it rain. Metaphorically, of course. When she finished, she fell asleep immediately. Crying was exhausting.


	5. Chapter 5

Here's 5! SO sorry it took so long to get up; I've had a hectic day. Thanks x

P.s. Swear words in this chapter, just a warning

**Chapter 5 **

It was Saturday night, and Stiles once again found herself sitting in the Jeep with Derek near the gas station. It had been one week since her birthday and Spring Break began, and it was all over tomorrow. Back to school on Monday. Needless to say, she was miserable, not just because she had wasted her nights, but that she had allowed a certain sour wolf to get under her skin. He sat beside her, seemingly unaffected by her damp demeanour. She was desperate for him to say something so she could have it out with him, yet as usual he was silent, a statue. She purposely sat there, her arms crossed firmly over her chest, refusing to look in his direction, and willing her body to seethe with hatred. She knew Derek would smell it. She wanted him to notice it and say something so he could set it off, that way she'd have a reason for yelling at him instead of seeming like a tantrum-throwing girl. Her patience was wearing thin, and her tiredness thickening.

Derek could smell the fumes coming off Stiles. Anger, frustration, and a little bit of sadness. He had upset her last night, but an 18-year-old girl's feelings were the furthest thing from his mind. He wouldn't admit it, yet like Stiles, he was worried. Ever since his great transformation, there had been peace in Beacon Hills. Outsiders were not only scared of him; they respected him. He'd struggled to make the right decisions as a Beta and an Alpha. It wasn't until he became a Beta again, and Scott ascended as a True Alpha, that he really began to rethink is morals. He was inspired by Scott and the memory of his mother – a great leader – to become something better. Then his metamorphosis happened, and he felt like a completely different person. He had the power to be great, like his mother and sister before him. However, his power had been unchallenged since then, as the town was drama-free. If this Omega wolf situation led to something, it would be the first time his new self would be put to the test. He was anxious, though he would never show it, especially not to someone like Stiles.

Therefore, they both sat quietly, Stiles doing her best to omit her discontent, and Derek doing his best to ignore it. Hours ticked by, and Stiles grew more and more uncomfortable. Derek could sense it, she was about to explode. But, to his surprise, she didn't. She actually fell asleep, she'd given up. He stole a glance at her; she had slumped forward, her neck bent awkwardly, and was beginning to tip to the side – his side. Should he move her? She was going to have a horrible pain in the neck when she awoke.

Eventually her head fell to the side and landed on his arm. He let it rest there for a while, not wanting to touch her, but it soon grew uncomfortable and he used a hand to push her head away. Unfortunately, this woke her up.

She jumped, startled, and hit her head on the roof of the car with a loud _thud_. She cursed.

"What the fuck are you doing?!" she yelled, rubbing her head with one and smacking away Derek's hand that was still beside her body from moving her.

"I was trying to make you more comfortable!" he growled back. This argument was happening, and they weren't holding back.

"Since when do you care when I'm comfortable?!" she retorted, there was a hint of excitement in her voice. She'd been waiting for this _all day_.

"Since all you do is complain, and I didn't want to hear about your sore neck when you woke up!"

"Well maybe I wouldn't _have_ a sore neck if I didn't have to sleep in my car for the past five nights! This is just ridiculous!" she spat.

"No Stiles, you're ridiculous," Derek's voice was lower now, but was still threatening.

"Then why am I here? You asked for _my _help, remember? So don't get all superior on me," she grinned, sensing victory. "I love being a part of the pack and helping out, but c'mon, you couldn't expect me – or any normal person for that matter – to not complain when they have to sit in a car each night with your moody-arse."

Derek laughed.

"What's so funny," Stiles demanded warily.

"You honestly think you're part of the pack? Please, that's just an honour Scott has bestowed on you because you're not special like us. You will never understand the supernatural because you will never be it," Derek ridiculed.

"How could you say that? Of course I'm part of the pack," Stiles said, her voice unsteady.

"No, you're just a hyperactive teenage girl who doesn't fit in the normal world, so she immerses herself in a world of craziness so she can blend in. You love the excitement and the chaos, because without it, you're out of place. Humans can never be a part of the supernatural world. You're too weak."

Derek's words cut through her like a blade. He regretted them as soon as they left his mouth, but he let them stale the air and watched as Stiles face dropped from anger to pain to despair. Her muscles tensed up, she wanted nothing more than to hit him, yet as he said, she was weak. She was nothing to him.

Her muscles relaxed and she immediately hopped out of the Jeep. Even though it was her car, she couldn't stand to be near him for another second. She began walking absentmindedly, letting her feet guide her. She couldn't think. There was a cloud in her mind. Surprisingly, she wasn't mad. She was just sad. Derek was right. She had been nothing before the supernatural had entered her life, all she ever had was Scott, and perhaps the reason why she had stayed loyal to Scott was out of her fear that she would be alone. If she had done the smart thing and gone as far away from Beacon Hills as any sane human would, she would have nothing. But Scott and her Dad were her life. She'd already lost her Mom; she didn't want to lose anyone else. Had everything Stiles done not because she was loyal or brave or smart, but because she desperate not to lose her only friend? She didn't want to let the thought that her only redeeming qualities were fake enter her mind.

Hands in her pockets, hood pulled over her head, the thicket grew too dense on her side of the road so she crossed over and continued walking, staring at her Converse shoes and trying to keep her mind from drifting toward the cloud. She was suddenly jolted from her trance when she slammed into something and stumbled backwards. When she looked up, she realized it wasn't something, but someone. Before her were two men, rough looking, in their early twenties. Possibly late teens. She was so conditioned by her father to observe the appearance of the others.

"Sorry," she said. They grinned at her perversely, and her anxiety began to boil. It was the middle of the night and she was alone and defenceless. Her baseball bat was in the Jeep. _Shit_, she thought. She quickly looked around to gage her surroundings. Relief overcame her when she realized that she was standing on the pavement next to the gas station. She decided to go in and use the payphone and call Scott to pick her up, she would get her car another time.

She threw the two men a polite smile and headed inside the station. As she suspected, they followed her.

It looked like Derek Hale was about to get what he wanted. She hoped that he was close enough to hear or see what was going on; otherwise it would all be for nothing.


	6. Chapter 6

Here's 6, if you're this far I hope you're enjoying the story! Review/like/subscribe. Thanks x

P.s. pretty nasty violence in this chapter, swear words etc, you've been warned

**Chapter 6**

Inside the safety of the gas station, Stiles headed straight for the payphone at the back of the store. She heard the two men enter the store shortly after her, so she tried to act casual and look as if she was browsing the magazine stand next to the phone. She glanced at the register, and her heart dropped when she saw it was vacant. The cashier wasn't there. _Fuck_, she trembled. Where was he? Bathroom break? _Please be back soon_. The two men were talking amongst themselves; they appeared relatively harmless thus far.

When she was sure they were not looking her way, she quickly stepped over to the payphone and picked up the handset. There was no dial tone. That was when she noticed a note over the coin slot that said **'OUT OF ORDER'**_**. **_

_Fuck fuck._

She didn't know what to do. Would it be weird if she just walk out now? Should she risk walking back to the Jeep? She could wait around for the cashier to come back… surely he wouldn't leave the store unattended for too long, seeing as his window got busted up only a week ago. A voice spoke from behind her.

"Phone not working?" she stifled a scream that threatened to escape her mouth, and spun around to face one of the men standing behind her. He had shoulder length raggedy blond hair that had almost formed into dreadlocks and bright blue eyes. She tried to compose herself and laughed it off.

"Yeah," she said, slowly edging away from the man. "I left my phone in my car."

"You can borrow mine, if you like," he said, moving closer to her. He had an ugly grin on his face.

"No thanks, I'll just go back to my car. My… boyfriend… is waiting for me," she lied, and picked up her pace towards the door. Just as she was reaching for the handle, the other man stepped in front of her, blocking the way. This man had tan skin and dark hair, and was fairly short for someone his age. He was about level with Stiles.

"Excuse me," she said quietly, doing her best not to absolutely freak out. The man brown haired man smiled at her.

"You're boyfriend?" the blond one said from behind her. She turned around to face him, stuck between the two of them.

"Yes," she swallowed. Blondie stepped closer to her, so close she could feel his breath on her face. Gross.

"You're boyfriend… the werewolf," her whispered. Stiles felt her mouth drop.

"What? No," she stammered. "What? There's no such things as werewolves."

He reached out a dirty hand and gently stroked a loose lock of hair beside her face. Stiles froze when she saw his claws were out. Derek was right, unfortunately. They were wolves.

"I can smell him on you," Blondie told her, pulling her head forward by the lock of hair and inhaling a big whiff of it. Stiles was beyond panicking.

"Okay, ha-ha, very funny," she did her best fake-laugh. "Werewolves, good one. I need to go, it was nice meeting you. Lay off the drugs maybe?"

She tried to pull away from the blond one but he tightened his grip of her hair and yanked her forward. Ouch. The brown haired one grabbed her forearm, his claws digging into her fragile human skin.

"You're hurting me!" she yelled, trying to twist out of his grip. He responded by digging his claws in more, puncturing the skin, and blood began to trickle down Stiles' arm. She yelped in pain and struggled even harder to break fee, but that just made it worse.

"_Now_ we're hurting you," Blondie laughed.

"Hey!" a voice called from not far away. Stiles whipped her head around to see the cashier had returned. About time. He stared at the two men and recognition swept over his face.

"Help!" Stiles pleaded, blood beginning to drip steadily from her arm onto the ground.

"Let her go! Or I'll call the police!" the cashier yelled, his mobile phone in hand. Blondie huffed and moved his hand to grip Stiles' throat.

"Go ahead, call them. We're leaving anyway," he said. A simple nod to the brown haired man and they began dragging Stiles outside. The last she saw of the cashier he was dialling a number on the phone. She was relieved that the police would be on their way, but scared at the same time. She didn't want any of them to get hurt. She hoped Parrish was on duty. As a Phoenix, he was the only match for two Omegas. They stopped moving when they were around the corner from the gas station.

"Why are you taking me?" she asked, her voice strained due to the intense amount of pain she was in. If he squeezed her arm any tighter the bone would break.

"We're not taking you. You're free to go as soon as you're Alpha friend comes," they told her.

"He doesn't know I'm here!" she breathed. "I wasn't with him. I was with another wolf."

They looked at each other for a moment, as if they had not been expecting this, then Blondie simply shrugged.

"We'll just have to make your location known to him," he said. He nodded at the brown haired one, who then dug his claws even deeper into Stiles arm – he had to be touching the bone now, she thought. The worst part came next. With his claws buried as far into the flesh as he could go, he proceeded to drag his claws across her arm, resulting in deep, open lines from which blood began to flow.

Stiles screamed. No, she howled. She may not have been a werewolf, but that sounds that came out of her mouth were inhuman. Her arm was on fire. She jerked and twisted and tried to escape the pain, yet Blondie's firm grasp on her neck prevented her from doing so. Finally, the man lifted his claws from Stiles arm and let go. She couldn't bring herself to look at the wound; she already knew it was bad. She could feel the blood pouring out; her arm was wet with it.

The brown haired one stepped away from his handiwork and grinned something evil.

"Who are you?" Stiles asked, choking on her own pain. Even in her worst moment she was still Daddy's little detective.

"Oh, did we forget to introduce ourselves? How rude," Blondie said. "My name is Maximilian, and this is Diego."

"What do you want?" she continued weakly. How much blood had she lost? Was she dying?

"We want your Alpha," he explained. "To kill a True Alpha, well that's an opportunity that only comes along once every hundred years. We're ready to ascend."

"You won't be a True Alpha," Stiles spat. If she was going to die she was going out with her usual humour and wit. "You'll just be murderers, like the others."

Maximilian brought her face close to his so she had nowhere to look but right into his eyes. He showed her his real eyes, his werewolf eyes. They were blue. The colour of those who had taken a life.

"We're already murderers, sweetie," he said menacingly.

This is it, Stiles thought, I'm going to die at the hands of a man with dreadlocks. Of all the ways she thought she would die, this was not one of them. She tensed her body, ready for the end. She had done this a few times before. When she and Derek almost drowned in the school pool, when Gerard Argent beat her, when the Nogistune ruined her body, when the chemist who infected their school had a gun to her head. Stiles had a routine. Squeeze her eyes tight shut, think of Scott's face, of her father's, and finally, she pictures her mother. She envisions her Mom opening up her arms and welcoming her in.

Stiles didn't know what to expect next. Would they kill her here and now? Wait for Scott to arrive? Let her go. Whatever happened, she was ready for the worst-case scenario.

But what she wasn't ready for was him. She heard his howl before she saw him; his black glossy coat, glowing blue eyes. The most beautiful wolf she had ever seen. It could only be Derek Hale.


	7. Chapter 7

Sorry but this won't be a very long one, I had a hectic day, but I've got tomorrow off and I promise 8 will be extra-long and awesome!

**Chapter 7**

Derek's howl echoed through the night; any werewolf or supernatural creature within a 50-mile radius would surely have heard it. Even Stiles, who was not supernatural in the slightest, felt overcome by the sheer power and dominance of the howl.

Maximilian spun around to face Derek's wolf form, his hand still clutching at Stiles' throat. She knew he was scared of Derek, she could feel his grip become unsure and his fingers trembled. True Alphas and True Wolves were the rarest forms of werewolves. To see a True Wolf was said to be a very changing experience for a werewolf. It was as if the wolf part of them acknowledged or understood that Derek's kind were superior in every way. It was enough to make Maximilian and Diego unsure of themselves, of their position. Stiles couldn't help think to herself, had they not known of Derek's existence? They must have known that Beacon Hills had always been under the protection of the Hale family. Or maybe they had simply heard the words "True Alpha in Beacon Hills" and gone for it. They didn't seem like the sort of werewolves that would do their research.

Stiles also experienced a very rare moment herself: she was actually glad to see Derek Hale.

Maximilian and Diego stood still, staring in awe at the wolf before them. They were at an impasse. Perhaps they were waiting to see what Derek would do. He took a few soft steps towards them, which caused Maximilian to become frightened and suddenly clamp down on Stiles' throat, leaving her to struggle for air.

So Derek roared. It was so much emotion in one sound: anger, intimidation, menace – all of which screamed one message – _Let. Her. Go._

As if forced by some supernatural barking order Stiles did not understand, Maximilian's hand immediately dropped from her throat and he and Diego were gone before she could blink. Without the support of Maximilian holding her up, coupled with the loss of blood she had suffered, Stiles had no hope of remaining vertical and her knees swiftly buckled under her.

She tensed in anticipation as she fell, preparing for her head to collide with the ground, but she felt a hand slide under her head and catch her just before she hit the floor. Derek's wolf form was still in her line of sight so she knew it could not be him. She turned her head to see Scott hovering over her.

"About time," she breathed; her whole body relaxing as Scott gently cradled her body in his arms.

"The police are on their way, hold on Stiles," he said. She couldn't hear any sirens or cars but she trusted Scott's hearing over her own.

Stiles could feel herself fading, growing weaker. It was like going to sleep. She knew from basic first aid that she should try to stay conscious, so she focused her attention on Derek. He was so beautiful in that form. All his human stubbornness and voice erased. Just pure wolf, pure Derek.

However, he turned away, and began slipping into the darkness. She knew he had to go, if he transformed now he would be completely naked when the police showed up – which would be awkward – and if he stayed as a wolf they would most likely shoot him – which would also be awkward. Therefore, she watched him go, and by the time he was gone, so was she.


	8. Chapter 8

Told you this would be a long one! Hoping the next one will be long too. Thanks for all the follows/likes/reviews, keep it up! x

**Chapter 8**

Stiles lay in the hospital bed at Beacon Hills Memorial, surrounded by her father, Melissa McCall, and her friends. It had been 5 hours since she had been brought in, and she was eager to leave. The sun was beginning to rise and she wanted to go home and enjoy her last day before school start back tomorrow. Her sleeping pattern was going to be so messed up. It was going to be a fun start to the last term.

"Seriously Dad," she said. "It's not bad. They stitched me up, gave me some nice drugs, I feel great!"

"You're not fine, Stiles," the Sheriff was pacing around the room panicky. "You passed out from the blood loss, that is not fine to me!"

"Actually," Melissa interjected. "She didn't lose enough blood to faint; it was the constriction to her neck. When the man let go of her throat it caused the blood to flow back to her brain too quickly."

The Sheriff shot Melissa a pained look and Melissa took a step back and closed her mouth.

"See, it's not that bad," Stiles said, somewhat back to her old self.

"What were you even doing there that late Stiles?" her Dad demanded.

"Just going for a late night drive, I was bored," she mumbled. She hated lying to her Dad but she didn't want him to know she was having secret stakeouts every night while he had been taking the night shifts. The Sheriff sighed and sat down in the chair beside the bed. He turned to Scott.

"Should we be worried about the scratches on her arm? They're really deep," his eyes were scared.

"No, she'll be fine. They weren't Alphas," he reassured him.

"Awesome. I'm not going to turn into a werewolf; I didn't lose that much blood, my arms okay. Everything's fine," Stiles said.

"Your arm is not _fine_, Stiles. You're going to have scars!" her Dad yelled, startling everyone in the room. Stiles cheeky smile fell from her face.

"Dad," she breathed. "I know. But, I'm lucky to bed alive, and if that cost a few badass scars, then that's cool with me."

Her Dad smiled slightly at her, somehow Stiles was always finding a way to bounce back from these situations, despite everything that had happened to her in the past couple of years. She had a gift of turning her tragedies into her strengths.

"What about these two new werewolves?" he asked. "Should we be worried?"

"I think Derek may have scared them off for now. But I wouldn't count on them staying away, they seemed pretty keen to go after Scott, unfortunately," Stiles told them. "I think it would be best if someone stayed with Scott, for extra protection."

"I will," Kira chirped up immediately. She and Scott smiled warmly at each other. Good, Stiles thought, less worry for her.

"What about you?" her Dad said. "They could have your scent now, right? Who's going to protect you?"

"I can do it," Malia suggested. Stiles wanted to object but she knew this would make her Dad happy, and Malia was good company when you didn't feel talking or getting deep. She was happy to just hang out.

"Great. All settled. Can I go home now?" she pleaded.

Melissa brought in the doctor, who talked to her and her Dad about taking care of stitches and how to change the bandages and how to tie up her sling and blah blah blah. Stiles wanted to _leave. _She knew she could rely on her Dad to take care of it, and Melissa would be calling her daily to ask how she was. With that, she was discharged from the hospital went home with Malia and her Dad. She shuffled upstairs like a zombie and collapsed on her bed, falling asleep before her body was even horizontal.

Despite her initial joy over her survival, Stiles was hit with a heavy depression on Monday morning, and it wasn't because it was her first day back at school. She couldn't quite pinpoint the reason for her sadness. Her arm hurt and when she had changed the bandage for the first time the ugliness of it had caught her off guard, she had serious bruising on her neck and it ached to swallow. But it wasn't that. She concluded that it was a combination of things. Not only was she scared about the new Omegas in town wanting her best friend's blood and the threat they posed to her reasonably stable life and nearing graduation, she was also admittedly still hurt by everything Derek had said to her. If anything, she felt worse now because of what had happened. It had only reiterated what he said about her being weak. Had he not come to her rescue she would have died. Great, now she was indebted to Derek Hale.

Everyone whispered and stared at her at school. The police – all expect her Dad and Parrish – were told that it was just a mugging gone wrong. She would continue to be the weird kid. She would have to move her goal of losing her virginity to the graduation party, when all of this had been forgotten. Kira and Liam were keeping an extra watchful eye on Scott, while Malia was sticking to her own guard duty on Stiles. Lydia had no bad feelings or any inkling so everything seemed fine. For now.

After a relatively uneventful first day, Stiles went home, followed by Malia. She grabbed the mail out of the letterbox and they went inside to watch the television quietly, as her Dad was still asleep after his night shift, which Stiles had insisted he take instead of having the night off to watch over Stiles. She sorted through the mail absentmindedly. Bill, bill, bill, junk, bill, Beacon County Community College. Woah. She held the envelope uncertainly in her hand; as if it were a bomb and it might explode, before snapping out of her daze and ripping it open. Malia watched curiously. She folded out the letter and skimmed over the first few lines.

**Dear Miss Stilinski,**

**Congratulations! We are pleased to inform you of your admission to the Beacon County Community College for the fall semester**...

"Woohoo!" Stiles cheered, jumping up from her spot on the couch. "I got into the Community College!"

"That's great, Stiles," Malia smiled, giving her a gentle hug, though her face looked a little concerned.

"I'm sure you'll get in Malia, it's only community college," she told her.

"I hope. So are you going to accept it?" Malia asked. Stiles looked at the acceptance deadline; it wasn't until May 1, over a month away.

"Not yet, this is the only letter I've got, so I'll wait and see if I get any other offers first," she said.

"You will," she smiled.

This was exactly the confidence boost Stiles needed. At least she knew now that she would definitely be going to college. She still wasn't 100% sure what she wanted to do. Secretly, she wanted become a police officer like her Dad, though she hadn't told anyone that. Everyone had such high hopes for her, expected her to do so much, but she wasn't ambitious like Lydia or definite like Scott and Kira. They knew what they wanted to do. Scott wanted to be a veterinarian, like Deaton, and Kira a history teacher, like her father. As for Malia, she just wanted to learn. She was constantly struggling to keep up with everyone on an intellectual level, so she valued the chance at a college education. Stiles knew that she didn't need college to become a police officer, but she felt it was something she needed to obtain, for her father's sake, and her mother's memory.

Stiles shortly received texts from both Scott and Kira. They had also been accepted. She could tell Malia was getting anxious, so she sent her home and promised to wake up her Dad or call Liam or Parrish or someone to come over and watch her, but she didn't. She peeked in on her Dad, who was sound asleep, and decided to leave him at peace. She took the letter up to her room and stashed it in her college information pile. She heard a _thump_ come from her window and turned to see Derek Hale climbing through her window. So that's how he did it. He normally just appeared out of thin air and scared her senseless.

Stiles was no longer sad about the Derek situation. She was now full-blown angry. She marched across the room and slapped him as hard she possibly could across that stupid face of his. Of course, Stiles had forgotten that hitting a werewolf was like hitting a brick wall and thus it hurt her more than him.

"_Fuck_," she gasped after slapping him. He hadn't even flinched. Show-off.

"You should have known that would hurt," he said.

"You should shut up," she snapped. "I cannot _believe_ you would have the guts to come here after what happened. Did you know that they would smell you on me? Why did you wait so long to show up?"

"Yes," he said.

"Yes what? I deserve answers don't you think?"

"I knew they would smell you on me. I knew it would make them approach you. I had hoped that because you were human they wouldn't hurt you," he explained.

"You _hoped?_ _You hoped!_" she yelled, her voice strained and croaky because of her sore throat. "Do you realize how much danger you put me in? They could have killed me! Next time you make a gamble with my life; make sure you inform me first, okay?"

"Would you have still done it knowing the risks?" he asked curiously. Stiles thought about it. Honestly, she had already known it had been risky. She had known they smashed the gas station window, and that they were Omega werewolves. Obviously, she knew there was a chance they could have attacked her. But had she known in advance that they would be able to smell Derek on her, would she have still done it. It wasn't the worst situation Stiles had willingly put herself in. Hell, she'd gone into werewolf fights armed with only a baseball bat.

"Yes," she answered. "I would have. But I also would have like to have known what I was walking into. I like to be prepared."

"I know," he said. "I'm sorry."

Stiles was a little surprised. Was Derek actually apologizing to her?

"What was that?" she asked, in case she had heard wrong.

"I said I'm sorry. I made you sit in that car every night all week, insulted you, then put you in danger and you got hurt. I'm sorry."

Stiles had to restrain herself from smiling victoriously. She wish she had a camera to capture the look on Derek's face, he was showing an emotion other than bitterness!

"Apology accepted," she said.

"All those things I said about you, I didn't mean it. I don't know why I said it."

"Because we annoying the hell out of each other?" she began to laugh, but her voice cracked again and she rubbed her sore neck. Derek stepped forward and reached his hand out towards her. She instinctively flinched away.

"I'm not going to hurt you, Stiles," he said. She allowed him to place his hands softly on her neck, one at a time. She could feel the pain beginning to drain away as he used his werewolf abilities to help her. After the pain had gone, his hands lingered on her neck for a second longer, and then he pulled away. Stiles was alarmed to find that she was disappointed he was no longer touching her.

She looked at herself in the mirror. Although the bruising was still there, it wasn't as red and flared and didn't feel as deep. Her swallowing even felt normal. When she turned back to Derek, he was halfway out the window.

"Thank-you," she said. He shrugged.

"I kind of owed you."

"You _still _owe me," she grinned. "BIG time."

Derek frowned momentarily, then smiled faintly.

"Agreed," he said before dropping out of the window. Stiles allowed her smile to grow from ear to ear. She felt like a teenage girl with a crush. Wait, was she a teenage girl with a crush? No, Derek was just attractive, and charming.

He was way too irritating for her to think about seriously. But that didn't stop her from thinking about him in a 'what if' dreamily kind of way.


	9. Chapter 9

So sorry this took ages to get up! I've just started back at university so I've been busy.

Thanks x

**Chapter 9**

Stiles rode on an emotional high that week. They didn't have any more trouble from the Omegas and all of her friends had been admitted into the Beacon County Community College, except for Lydia, who hadn't bothered applying because she was way too smart for that. Like Stiles, they were waiting to see if they were admitted to anywhere else before they accepted their offers, but it was nice to know they had gotten in somewhere, especially Malia, who was ecstatic that she would be going to college.

Stiles' throat healed up quickly after Derek had absorbed some of her pain, and Scott was helping her with the pain in her arm. It was mainly itchy because of the stitches, but she was having them taken out on the weekend. Thanks to her college acceptance letter and Derek's apology, the first week back at school flew by. The only downside was that Coach had forbade her from participating in lacrosse practice because of her arm, which was understandable, so she just sat on the bleachers with Malia and watched instead. After school was finished on Friday, Stiles went home alone. She promised to call if there was any problems but they doubted there would be. It looked as if Derek had scared off the Omegas; he _was_ pretty intimidating.

She was surprised to find another letter for her in the mail. This one was from the UCLA. This was the second college letter she had received this week, and she was sure it would be her first rejection letter. She thought about not opening it until the weekend was over so it didn't dampen her mood. But she was Stiles, she wasn't exactly the most patient person in the world. She put the envelope on her desk with her college pile and paced around the room, trying not to look at it. This lasted for about two minutes before she gave up and opened it with shaky hands.

**Dear Miss Stilinski,**

**Congratulations. The Admissions Board is pleased to inform you of your acceptance to the University of California – Los Angeles for the fall semester.**

Stiles forgot to breathe, then began to breathe too quickly. How had this happened? She'd been accepted into UCLA, her mother's alma mater. This was huge for Stiles. She hadn't really counted on being accepted, she figured she'd just go to a college nearby, like somewhere she had applied to in San Francisco, or worst-case scenario, to the community college. She knew if she told her Dad that he would want her to go to UCLA. He wanted her to get as far away from Beacon Hills as she could and make a life for herself, but she didn't want to be that distant from him. UCLA was an 8-hour drive.

She heard her Dad's footsteps approaching and swiftly shoved the letter in her college pile. He knocked at her open door.

"How was school?" he asked.

"Good," she said, trying to act normal. "You working tonight?"

"Nope," he beamed. "My night off, so I thought maybe we could go and get a pizza for dinner?"

"That'd be great," she replied.

When he was gone, Stiles sat at her desk and stared at her two college acceptance letters. She had a lot to think about.

On Saturday afternoon, Scott went with Stiles to the hospital to get her stitches out. She had lied to her Dad and said her appointment was Sunday, but that was only because she didn't want him to be there when they were taken out in case it was bad. They went in to see the doctor and he began taking out the stitches. Scott purposely held Stiles' hand so she was in less pain, and talked to distract her. She didn't look until the doctor was finished, and when she did look, she felt sick.

There were four scars in total, all only about 3 inches long, centred in the middle of her forearm. Where they lacked in length, they made up for in width, because the scratches had been so deep. And the colour was disgusting. They were a horrible reddish-purple. Stiles looked at the doctor.

"They're not going to stay that colour, are they?" she asked, her voice uneven.

"No, but I'm afraid it will be a while before they change to a skin colour," he said, applying a fresh bandage across the ugly scars so they could continue healing.

"How long is a while?" Scott asked.

"Years," he answered regretfully. "I'm sorry."

Stiles swallowed whatever feelings she had that were beginning to rise.

"That's okay," Stiles laughed. "I can just cover it up or something. No biggie."

After they were finished at the hospital, Stiles took Scott home. They sat silently in the car for a moment.

"I'm really sorry Stiles," Scott said eventually. "I'll talk to Deaton, see if there's anything he can do about it."

"It's fine, really," Stiles smiled, trying to reassure herself mores than Scott. "But thanks."

"Do you want to play the Xbox or something?" Scott asked, his voice pitiful.

"I think I'll just have a nap and do homework, I'll text you later," she said.

When Stiles got home, she did neither of those things. She simply did nothing. She lay on her bed and had a good old-fashioned wallowing-in-her-own-grief session. She just wanted to feel sorry for herself. _It could have been worse, it could have been worse_, her mind repeated, trying to convince herself that the fact she now had nasty scars on her arm was okay. Her Dad was going to flip when he saw, she would have to figure out a way to put that off for as long as possible.

Gradually, Stiles mental exhaustion poured over into the physical side, and she fell asleep. It used to be so hard for her to fall asleep, for a long time, that she usually just allowed her body to sleep whenever it wanted. If she felt tired, she napped. After the whole Nogistune incident she would never take the opportunity to sleep for granted.

When she awoke, the sun had long disappeared on the horizon and was replaced with a beautiful blue glow omitted by the full moon. It was 11:01pm, _dammit_, she thought, she'd be up all night now. She soon noticed that it was a knocking sound that had disturbed her slumber. She wandered downstairs, following the source of the noise, and quickly realized that there was someone at the front door. Her Dad must have been at work, so she was alone. The thought made her panic. Who could it be? Scott and her friends would have text her first if they were coming over, and she had no messages or missed calls.

She grabbed her trusty aluminium baseball bat – just to be safe – and cautiously opened the front door, her hand gripping tightly on the bat handle. She swung the door open swiftly, prepared for whatever may come.

Well, almost prepared. She was _not_ prepared for Derek Hale to be standing outside her front door. She was confused on so many levels.

What was he doing there? And what was he specifically doing there, instead of climbing through her bedroom window?


	10. Chapter 10

Review/like/subscribe, I hope you are all enjoying it! Thanks x

**Chapter 10**

"What the?" Stiles said, not shy in expressing her confusion. Derek had never knocked at her front door; he had always just mythically appeared in her bedroom, which she had recently meant he had been climbing in through her window. So seeing Derek standing at her door was quite a surprise for Stiles. And to be honest, Derek always took her by surprise. He was such an intoxicating sight. Everything about him was perfect, from his build to his gorgeous green eyes and his hair and his jaw and his rare smile and… _everything._ Even the clothes he wore were perfect. Jeans, grey t-shirt, leather jacket. Stiles hated that she was so attracted to him, but how could she not be? He was undeniably hot.

"What are you doing here and not in my bedroom?" Stiles asked before realizing how suss her words sounded. "I mean, what – why didn't you just climb in my window?"

"I thought I'd be polite and use the front door," he said. Stiles blinked. What was his angle? Was he trying to get something out of her? Ask her for another favour?

"You've decided to be polite, _now_? It's a couple of years too late for that don't you think?" she scoffed.

"Better late than never," he shrugged. "So can I come in?"

"Since when have you needed my permission? You're a werewolf, not a vampire," she laughed. Derek didn't think it was funny. He waited.

"_Fine_," she said. "Come in, geez."

She stepped aside and allowed Derek to enter. He subtly looked around the place before standing still in the middle of the hallway.

"Should we… go upstairs? I have to start some homework," she said. She didn't allow him to answer and instead went upstairs, leaving him to follow.

Derek had been in her bedroom a dozen times before but somehow this felt different. It wasn't an invasion of privacy this time. She sat on edge of her desk and watched him look around her room. He spotted her college pile next to her on the desk and carefully touched the top piece of paper, which also happened to be her Beacon County Community College acceptance letter.

"Congratulations," he said.

"I haven't accepted it yet," she told him, for some reason.

"Why not?"

"It's complicated," she sighed. He stared at her, blinking, waiting for an explanation.

"I got into UCLA as well," she admitted. "My Mom went there and I know my Dad wants me to move away from here," she explained.

"What do you want?"

"I want to be a cop, like him. I don't exactly have high academic aspirations, and I want to stay here, to be near him. The thought of him being alone scares the hell out of me," she blurted out. _WHY WAS SHE TELLING HIM THIS?_ She could barely say this stuff to Scott. He was so pure and wise it made her sick sometimes.

"You can't take care of him forever, Stiles," Derek said.

"Yes I can," she snapped, perhaps too harshly.

"Well, I think you should do what you want," Derek advised. "If you want to be a cop, a Community College education will be fine. You get to stay here and be with your Dad. He'll get over it."

"I just hate disappointing him, I've done a lot of that," she looked at her feet to avoid her eyes.

"Your Dad's proud of you, anyone can see that. And he'll be proud of you no matter what."

Stiles looked at him. Somehow, Derek was comforting her.

"Thanks."

There was a pause. It wasn't awkward but Stiles felt she needed to keep the conversation going. Being on good terms with Derek was strange.

"Anyway, why are you here? You didn't come to listen to my problems, unless you think this counts towards all those favours you owe me, which it doesn't," she said. Derek smiled, one of those rare smiles that warms up his eyes. _Remember to breathe, Stiles,_ she told herself.

Derek reached his hand into his jacket and pulled out a jar of purple ointment.

"I'm here to give you this," he said, handing it over to her. She unscrewed the lid and was insulted with a putrid smell.

"Ugh that's disgusting! What is it?"

"It's for your arm."

"Gross! I'm not getting that stuff anywhere near me!" she protested.

"Look, Scott told me about the scars. This will help," he informed her. She sat there hesitantly, and then slowly peeled off the bandage on her arm to reveal her scars. She held out her arm to Derek. He seemed unfazed by the sight of them.

"You do it," she said. She could barely look at the scars; she certainly was not going to rub that purple filth on them. Derek went and washed his hands then came back and started applying the ointment to her arm. He was very gentle, cautious not to press too hard, spreading the cream bit by bit instead of slapping a lump on. She soon discovered that he was doing this because it stung, no _BURNED_. She began to squirm and twist, so Derek used his free hand and grabbed on to her thigh to help ease her pain.

"I'm also here because I wanted to apologize again," he said, clearly trying to distract her.

"What?"

"The things I said to you," he continued. "I only said them because I was angry with you. I've been angry with you for a long time."

"Angry? What the hell did I do now?"

"More frustrated than angry I guess," he said. "You're just a normal human being. There's nothing supernatural about you whatsoever and yet you've dealt with all this better than most of us."

Stiles could not believe what she was hearing, so she kept listening, there had to be a catch. He kept talking.

"When Scott became a werewolf, I kept waiting for you to abandon or reject or turn him in, but you never did. Even when he tried to kill you when he was first getting the hang of it. I didn't understand why you didn't back out, that would have scared anyone off. I thought maybe you wanted the bite for yourself, yet you've rejected it every time it's been offered. Everything you've been through because of your friends, when you could have left at any time and led a perfectly normal life. You've broken the law, been beaten, possessed by a Nogistune, almost lost your father, nearly been killed a dozen times in a dozen different ways… and you're still here. Then I realized something."

"What?"

"You're not supernatural… but you're special. You've always had a good sense of right and wrong, you've shown that you're willing to die for a cause and the people you love. You're smart, inquisitive, light-hearted, strong, loyal, determined, and brave. I've just been frustrated with you because after everything… you shouldn't be like this. The things I went through hardened me, but they only seemed to make you stronger. You're one of the very few humans I've met that can handle my world and not have it destroy them."

Stiles didn't know what to say, even though there was so much going through her head. Mainly, she was flattered. But, Stiles was also a humble person, so she was reluctant to accept his words.

"Did you rehearse that?" she joked, though her heart wasn't in it.

"I'll admit, I've been thinking about what to say for the past week," he smiled. Stiles could feel a grin spreading across her face and she struggled to contain it, as well as the red blush that was certainly swelling her in cheeks. She felt as if everything she had ever thought about Derek was wrong. She thought she hated him, but maybe that was because they had not got along very well up until this point. They had either flat hated or tolerated one another for Scott's sake. But maybe all they needed was to be honest and open up a bit, though Stiles knew Derek wasn't exactly the opening-up-and-sharing-your-feelings kind of person.

"I'm not as great as you make me out to be," she said. "I don't know what I'm doing half the time."

"Maybe. But you do it with the best intentions."

Stiles noticed that her arm was no longer burning. It wasn't tender anymore. She looked at it just as Derek applied the last drop of ointment. She couldn't see the actual scars because they were covered in the putrid-smelling purple sludge, yet her armed felt a lot better already, and the red swelling around the wounds had all but disappeared.

"What is that stuff?" she asked in amazement.

"Family recipe. I don't think even Deaton has it," he explained. "I had to get it out of the vault. It's what Braeden used to help her scars heal so quickly."

"Oh," Stiles said, the mention of Derek's ex-girlfriend and reformed U.S. Marshall was unexpected. She hadn't seen or heard from Braeden in a long time. "Thank-you."

"You just need to keep it bandaged for another day or so, do you have any?"

Stiles directed him to the bathroom, where all the medical supplies were, and instructed him to wash his filthy hands while he was at it. Normally, Derek would have growled at Stiles for a comment such as that, though not this time. She was incredibly alarmed by how much she liked this new Derek. She attempted to compose herself before he came back to the room, she felt so vulnerable, and with their history, it was unlikely that they would keep up the camaraderie, she didn't want to get hurt again.

He expertly bandaged her arm up and took a step back to look at his work.

"Done," he said, a genuine smile on his face. He actually appeared to be happy, perhaps because his conscious was clear now that he had confessed to Stiles. He looked at her with those eyes – eyes made even more beautiful by the contrast to his dark brows. She couldn't stop staring at him.

He was so… irresistible.

Stiles wasn't sure why she did what she did next. Maybe it was because she hadn't felt so flattered in a long time, or her arm felt a million times better, or Derek was probably the hottest person she had laid on eyes on. It was most likely the fact that she was a horny teenager whose sex life had been about as exciting as watching paint dry and she was having a burst of her so-called bravery. She reached out and grabbed a handful of Derek's shirt and pulled – no, yanked – him towards her. Still sitting on the edge of her desk, she leaned forward, and before he could protest or back away, she planted her lips softly on his, just to see how it felt.

He somehow smelt better than he looked, and his lips were unexpectedly soft. It only lasted a few seconds before they both pulled back slightly, their foreheads still pressed gently together.

"Sorry," she said immediately. She started to panic. What if he didn't think of her in that way? Why would he? She wasn't exactly the typical attractive woman he went for. What if he thought she had misinterpreted their conversation as him hitting on her? She was already regretting her move. "I just wanted to try that. I – I didn't think you were coming on to me or anything – I think – it's not like I have a crush on you – oh god, I mean you're just really hot…"

"Shut up, Stiles," Derek whispered. He grabbed her face in his hands and pressed their lips together once again. It felt so natural, so easy, as if they had done it before a million times. To them, it was two years' worth of averted and denied sexual tension being released. It was admitting that they had a connection, albeit an unusual one. They had always been so wary and unsure of each other, continually sussing them out, and now they had inaudibly, and finally, admitted that they trusted and admired one another. Neither was sure of what was happening between them, was this passion? Lust? A moment of vulnerability and weakness? Was this going to become something more? At that time, neither cared.

There was something new between them and it felt good, so they didn't stop.


	11. Chapter 11

**Review/like/subscribe! Thanks x**

**P.s. I had to leave this on a big cliff-hanger because it's 3:30am and I'm really tired, sorry! I promise to update ASAP.**

**Warning: Sexual content in this chapter**

**Chapter 11**

Stiles had her legs firmly wrapped around Derek's waist, pulling him in as close as possible. Her hands were running through his slick black hair, making sure he didn't try to part his mouth from hers. His own hands were gripping her waist, keeping her pressed against him. She didn't know how long they had been making out for, nor did she care. She wanted to continue kissing him, to kiss every inch of him. His lips, his neck, his chest… _everything_. She wasn't sure what had come over her, this sudden, undeniable, and extreme hunger for him, and only him. She hated him just a few days ago, and now here she was, unable and unwilling to pry herself off him. _Hormones_, she told herself.

She couldn't breathe, literally. She needed to stop, to refill her lungs so she could go on all night, but she didn't want to. Her body eventually got the better of her, she reluctantly allowed their lips to break, and leaned back from him, sucking in the air. It was only then that she realized that the smell from the purple ointment still clung to the air, to her arm. She scrunched up her nose in disgust.

"Wow," she breathed. "That's kind of a mood killer."

Derek detached himself from her took a step back so he was not within reach anymore. He wouldn't look her in the eye.

"I should go," he said. "Make sure you leave that bandage on for a day."

"Oh," she replied, disappointed. "Okay. Thanks, again."

He opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. Instead, he gave her a final glance before leaving the way he had come – out the front door.

_What the hell was that_? She thought. _What was all of that_? Had she gone mental? She hopped off the desk and sat in a daze on her bed. She had to have entered the twilight zone, was that a real thing? She didn't know anymore, her whole reality had been flipped. She had just made out with Derek Hale. Sure, it was awesome, but it was also stupid. Her relationship with him had been so unstable up until now; she would be an idiot to trust him just because he had a moment of kindness. He was a werewolf. He was also an unspecified amount older than she was. It was kind of weird, and made no sense.

_Don't overthink it, Stiles_, she told herself. However, being Stiles, she couldn't help but over-analyse it in her head to the point where she exhausted herself into sleep. Even in her dreams, Stiles saw Derek. She was in a forest, looking for him, though she couldn't find him. The last thing she saw before she awoke was his wolf-form, big and black and blue eyed.

The next morning, Stiles tried to convince herself she had dreamt the whole thing, or that she should at least pretend it was a dream, because it was not likely to happen again. She walked downstairs to find her Dad making pancakes. Yummy. He must have just gotten back from his night shift.

"Morning," he said. "Stitches out today, right?"

"Ah… actually, I had them out yesterday. The doctor changed the appointment," she lied. Her Dad spun around to face her, his eyes wide.

"And?"

"Well, I had to put this cream on it for a day, so I won't be able to tell until I wash that off," she said. "I think it will be okay though."

"I hope so," he smiled warmly, and then returned to making the pancakes.

Stiles decided she needed to distract herself. So she had breakfast with her Dad and then went over to Scott's to see what he had planned for the day. He and Kira were going to the school to practice lacrosse, even though it was a Sunday and not a scheduled training day. They had the State Semi-Finals coming up soon. She joined them, but they were wary of letting her participate in the physical side because of her arm – which wasn't sore at all – so she mainly watched. She loved seeing Scott and Kira together. They were so alike, so kind and fun and cheerful. They made each other happy. It got Stiles thinking.

"How do you know when you like someone?" she asked as they ate lunch, sandwiches that Kira's Mom had made.

"What do you mean?" Scott replied.

"How do you know the difference between like and lust?"

"Are you talking about someone in particular?" it was Kira who spoke. Stiles panicked.

"No," she said, perhaps too quickly. "What if there was someone who you didn't really like or had nothing in common with, but you wanted them. Badly."

"That's lust," Scott concluded. Kira wasn't as oblivious as Scott was; she knew Stiles wasn't posing an open question.

"There's nothing wrong with lust," Kira continued. "It can be fun, especially at our age. As long as you don't let yourself get hurt and keep your emotions in check, why not give in to your inner animal?"

Stiles smiled, she liked that. Her inner animal. The thought of little vixen-Stiles inside her waiting to unleash itself on someone made her laugh. Okay, so maybe she wasn't in love with Derek or hadn't developed intense feelings for him, but she was incredibly attracted to him. She was still a girl – a woman – and she had needs. There was nothing wrong with wanting to be with him physically, and only physically. She knew she read too much into everything; maybe now she just needed to throw caution to the wind and say fuck it.

Later that night, her Dad made her sit in the kitchen while he took her bandage off. They both watched anxiously as he peeled off the last layer, and they both dry reached when the smell of the purple ointment hit their noses.

"Ugh, Stiles! That's disgusting!" her Dad yelled, holding a dishcloth over his face. Stiles couldn't help but laugh, it was exactly what she had said when she first reacted to the smell. The dried up ointment blocked their view of her scars, so they carefully washed off the stuff in the sink.

Stiles couldn't believe her eyes. Just yesterday, her scars had been ugly and red and swollen. Now, they were smooth and white, as if the wound had occurred years ago. They were still clearly visible, there was no escaping that, but she didn't feel as embarrassed by them. She knew she had no shame in her original scars, they weren't her doing, and she would never judge anyone with similar scarring, yet the sight of her new ones swept her with relief. After closer examination, she noticed they looked like leaves. The shape, the size, light veins running through them.

"That's… not that bad," her Dad said eventually. "That doc did a pretty good job."

"Yeah," Stiles agreed, still in shock. "I'm going to go and show Scott."

"What? Now? Stiles, it's late," her Dad, protested.

"I know, but he'll want to see," she said, grabbing her hoodie, wallet and keys and racing out the door before her Dad could fit in another word.

Something had overcome Stiles. Call it bravery or stupidity or impulsivity, whatever it was she was riding its wave and going with the flow. She was going to let it control her and hoped it would lead her somewhere great. She started the car and drove, not to Scott's, but to Derek's loft. She had guessed that her surge would take her here, she had a feeling it wanted her to do something extreme, and this was what her subconscious wanted.

It wasn't until she was standing at the door of the loft that she became somewhat self-aware. What was the plan? What was she intending to say and do once he opened the door? What if he wasn't home. She looked at herself, she'd had a bath not long ago and her hair was still wet and she was wearing shorts and a hoodie. God help her. Before she could dwell on her thoughts any longer, the large sliding door was pulled opened by Derek. He was wearing a tight white singlet and sweatpants.

"I thought I could smell you," he said.

Stiles stepped inside and closed the door behind her while Derek watched curiously. She held on to the handle for a moment, preparing herself, before she turned around to face him. She took a deep breath, and then walked straight up to him and kissed him. She didn't hold back. She let her hands run wild over his body, through his hair, gripping his biceps, over to his chest. He was hesitant to respond at first, probably out of shock, though he ultimately yielded. He pinned her to the closest wall and tenderly kissed her jawline, trailing to her neck and collarbone and back again, while his hands found their way to her waist. She unzipped her hoodie faster than lightning and let it drop to the floor. She was wearing a tank top underneath, which allowed Derek's hands easy access to slide up and run softly over her stomach, his mouth still on her neck. She responded by slipping off his own singlet and kissing down his neck, to his chest, to his stomach, until she was crouched on her knees, running her wet mouth against his waistline. She felt his body tremble, was that a good or bad thing? She stuck out her mouth and slowly stood up, running her tongue against his torso as she went. Their mouths met again and hands returned to exploring. Derek's hands found her thighs and he ran his fingers up and down them as she slipped hers into the back of his pants and felt the skin underneath.

They went on for some time until Stiles couldn't take it anymore. She wanted him so badly it was almost physically painful, she needed to have him, more of him. All of him. Still pinned against the wall, she slipped from his grip and, holding his hand, began pulling him towards the bed on the other side of the loft. Derek stopped, letting his hand drop.

"Stiles, no," he said.

"Why not?" she asked, trying to be seductive and not desperate. She had to hide her nerves.

"Because it's wrong."

"I'm legal," she quipped. He hesitated. "Don't worry, I know what this is and I know what it isn't," she pushed. "I'm not going to fall in love with you or anything."

He still didn't move. She had to do something to get him motivated. Daringly, she lifted her singlet over her head and dropped her shorts to the floor so she was left in her bra and underwear. That got his attention. She could feel his eyes examining her body, though she wouldn't look at him because she was shy. She finished off the act by unclipping her bra and stepping out of her underwear. She was now completely naked and vulnerable.

Without meeting his eyes, she tiptoed over to his bed and lay down, propped on her elbows. Moments later, he climbed onto the bed, positioning himself on top of her. She wrapped her bare legs around his waist and drew him to her so that he was leaning against her stomach. They stared at each other, a mixture of fear and excitement in their eyes. Stiles felt herself beginning to overthink so she silenced her thoughts by fixing her arms around Derek's neck and pulling him in for a kiss. He used one elbow to keep himself up, and his free hand traced the surface of Stiles' breast. She was momentarily embarrassed when she remembered how small they were and hoped it wouldn't remind him of how young she was. His hand gradually travelled down in between her legs and found that she was already wet. How could she not be? Stiles' back arched as Derek pleasured her. She'd never been touched there by a boy, and as Derek seemed to know exactly what he was doing, she was in ecstasy. It was certainly better than doing it herself.

He brought her so close, to the brink, but she stopped him before she finished. She wanted to finish with him.

"I want you," she said, her hand slipping into his pants. He was definitely ready too.

"Are you sure?" he asked, his warm breath against her neck.

"Yes," she moaned into his ear.

She had never been so sure of anything in her life.


	12. Chapter 12

**Warning: More sexual content**

**Chapter 12**

Derek slid off his pants and readjusted himself on top of her so that his elbows held him up, his face not far above hers. Stiles wasn't nervous anymore, which was unusual for her. She was normally a ball of anxiety in stressful situations, but she felt comfortable with him and trusted him to be gentle. She was somewhat apprehensive about the possibility of pain, though that was unavoidable.

Derek kissed her softly, then began. He moved his hips back and proceeded to push forward, entering her slowly. She tried not to show it, but it did hurt, a lot. It was more of a burning sensation. He kept going until he was fully inside of her, which took some time because she was so tight. He looked at her face and saw that she was biting her lip, trying to hold in the pain. He placed on one hand on her hip and took away the pain so she was more comfortable. She let out a deep breath.

Keeping his hand on her, he began to move rhythmically, drawing back and going forward. Now that the pain was gone, she began to feel something like pleasure as his motions grew faster and faster. She had masturbated before, but this feeling was on a whole other level, it was so deep. He planted tender kisses on her neck, going down to her chest, while his hand ran along her hip and thigh. How was he multi-tasking right now? She could barely focus on the pleasure. She decided to follow his lead, instead of lying there like a corpse. She put her legs around his thighs, her feet lightly touching his calves, and her hands on his lower back. He gradually picked up the pace and let go of her hip so that she could completely feel the experience. The pain came back somewhat but it was overpowered by the immense pleasure she was having. She began moaning; she couldn't help herself. Derek was sucking on her neck, his nose tracing along her jawline. He wasn't making any noise, though he was breathing heavily.

He went faster, burying his hips into her as far as he could go again and again. She wrapped her arms around him in a hugging motion and pulled him closer so their bodies were totally pressed against each other. He put his head next to hers and gripped onto her shoulders to steady himself. He kept going. Stiles had no idea how much longer he could last, surely he was almost there? Not that she wanted him to stop, she wanted the feeling to last forever, but she was amazed at his stamina. Well, he _was _a werewolf. Normal physical endurance didn't apply to him.

Stiles came first, she couldn't hold it back. The pace was just too much for her and her back arched and she bit into Derek's shoulder, muffling her cry of pleasure. As her muscles relaxed, she felt his rhythm begin to falter and grow unsteady. He was panting, and his grip on her shoulders tightened. He gave one last, deep thrust and groaned as he finished inside of her.

He lay on top of her for a moment as they caught their breath, still clutching each other. Stiles was trembling, shaking, she felt as if her whole body had been pleasured, not just one part. Derek eventually slid out of her and rolled over so they were lying side by side. They stayed like that for a while, staring at the ceiling, waiting for their bodies to return to normal. As the tingling sensation faded from Stiles', it was replaced by a dull ache, she was sore.

She suddenly remembered where she was and who she was with and began to fret. Should she leave? Were they supposed to cuddle or something? She was terrified that she may have bled, they hadn't put a towel down or anything. _Shit. _Her panicked mind raced and she knew she had to move or say something, it was getting to awkward.

"Well," she spoke, sitting up. She snuck a look down at the sheets, no blood. Phew. "I should be going, school night."

She winced, _way to remind him you're still in high school, Stiles._

Derek nodded and put his sweatpants back on as she picked up her items of clothing off the floor and quickly dressed. He walked her to the door.

"So… um… thanks?" she said. Derek smiled and kissed her again.

"Goodbye, Stiles," he breathed.

"O-okay, um, yep," Stiles was flustered, and she almost walked into the door on her way out. "Bye."

She half-walked, half-skipped back to the Jeep and hopped in. Before starting the engine, she sat and had a moment of reflection.

She was no longer a virgin. She had lost of her virginity, to Derek. Derek Hale had just had sex with her. She kept repeating the words in her head but they still didn't make sense to her. She had the biggest grin on her face as she thought about it. She felt no regret or shame, it had been an amazing experience, she was lucky. As for Derek, well, she hadn't fallen in love with, thank god. It was just sex, as they wanted it to be. Now the next time she tried to get with a guy, it wouldn't be so bad.

She wanted to tell Lydia immediately, but she knew that would be violating Derek's privacy. She would have to make up a lie about getting with someone else, someone Lydia didn't know.

She started the engine and went home, full of youthful optimism and joy.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

"I cannot believe you didn't tell me straightaway," Lydia was furious. It was Monday and they were having lunch at school. Stiles had finally told the group about the previous night's escapade, although she had tweaked some of the details.

"I said I'm sorry," Stiles said, half-heartedly. She knew Lydia would get over it soon.

"So who was this guy?" Malia asked.

"Just one of my online gamer friends," she lied, staring at her food. "I went over his house to trade games and one thing led to another."

Scott was the most suspicious. They all knew Stiles' had online friends from World of Warcraft and Skyrim, but she never really talked about them. She hadn't ever met any of them; it had just seemed like a foolproof lie to tell her friends.

"Are you going to see him again? Do you like him?" Kira asked.

"No, I don't like him, it was just a one-time thing," she answered. "I might see him around but I doubt anything will happen again."

Lydia was still fuming, yet she wanted all the details, she couldn't resist.

"So what was it like? Did it hurt? Was he hot? You owe met his," she barked. Stiles' laughed. Scott make a sickened face and said, "I don't really want to hear about this, I'm going to talk to Liam and Mason", and then he left. Scott and Stiles were basically unbiological siblings, so it would have been for him to imagine someone deflowering his sister. Stiles understood, she too scrunched up her nose at the mention of Scott being intimate with anyone. Ew.

They spent the rest of their lunch break going through the details. She had to be extra careful of what she said in case she contradicted herself, but she thought she got away with it.

She was still glad it had happened, though a part of her was thinking of Derek and how he felt. Was he regretting it? Would he avoid her? Should she contact him? It wasn't as if he was some regular high school guy… this was Derek Hale, she would never be able to decipher him. She concluded that if he wanted to talk to or see her, he would come to her.

….

Stiles did not see Derek for a long time, but it didn't bother her. She'd gone months without seeing him before, why should it matter now? School was getting intense and they had won their State Lacrosse Semi-Finals, moving them into the Grand Final. She received two more college acceptance letters – one from a college in San Francisco and one in Sacramento, bringing her total up to four choices. She only told her Dad about the Beacon County Community College letter. He was happy she had been accepted, but told her to wait until the May 1st deadline before she made a decision, just in case she got any other offers. All four had the same deadline so she had to make her choice. She considered not telling her Dad about UCLA, and admitting to the other three. That way she could rule it out without upsetting him, though she would have to live with the guilt. Sacramento was the closest, only two and a half hours away, so that was her favourite choice. She wasn't a big fan of San Francisco, it was too hilly and busy. She was used to the smaller sized Beacon Hills, and the thought of living in a place as frantic as SF shot her anxiety to new levels.

Overall, she was worn out. Between lacrosse practice, homework, school, friends, lying to her Dad and pulling her hair out over college applications, she was beat. She'd started napping every day for the past few days, she couldn't stay conscious without at least a 1-hour rest after school, and her body was so weak and tired all the time. Even her Adderall wasn't helping.

3 weeks after having sex with Derek, Stiles spent the weekend in bed, studying and playing games. Scott had invited her to practice for lacrosse with Kira but she was just too tired and she needed to rest. She had a big week coming up, her college deadlines were on Friday – so she would have to talk to her Dad before then – and the lacrosse final was next weekend. She couldn't understand what was wrong with her. She'd juggled a lot more responsibility before and had been fine, so what had changed? She couldn't believe the level of exhaustion she felt, no amount of sleep could cure it. Maybe she was sick, her body didn't feel 100% right and it _had_ been a while since she'd had anything resembling a cold. She took her temperature, it was a little above normal, though not alarming. She would have to give it a few more days and see if her symptoms subsided.

They didn't.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14 **

Wednesday rolled around, and with only two more days to make a decision about college, she knew it was time to talk to her Dad. After she got home from school, she took her college letters into the kitchen and sat at the table, waiting for her Dad.

He woke her up. She didn't even notice she had fallen asleep, her face lying on the pile of papers on the table, a large drool patch dampening them. She sat up with a jolt and wiped the slobber off her mouth.

"What's wrong with you lately?" he asked, sitting across the table. She yawned and stretched her arms above her head.

"Nothing, just tired, been busy," she said. The Sheriff's eyes flickered down to the papers in front of her.

"What are these?" he inquired. Stiles swallowed.

"College acceptance letters," she told him quietly. He picked them up and sorted through them. Stiles had decided to include the UCLA letter, she hated lying to him. She saw his eyes light up when he came across it.

"UCLA?" he beamed. "Stiles, that's fantastic!"

"Yeah."

"I'm so proud of you, your Mom would be too," he said.

"Dad, I – "

"Oh this is great," he continued.

"I'm not going," Stiles blurted. The smile dropped from her father's face.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"I don't want to go to UCLA. I was thinking maybe the Community College or Sacramento," she told him.

"_Community College_?" her Dad growled. Stiles shrank back.

"I want to be cop, like you," she finally admitted. "You didn't even go to college."

"That's because I went straight into the army," he reminded her. There was silence for a while as they both cooled down. They didn't like arguing with each other.

"You know I just want the best for you, Stiles," her Dad said eventually. "You're Mom always talked about how much she loved being at UCLA."

"I know," Stiles said. "But I'm not Mom. I'm not smart like she was. I'm more like you."

The Sheriff sighed.

"So you really want to be a cop?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Okay," he nodded. "If that's what you want to do. _But_, you're going to get a decent college education first in case you change your mind. So… you were thinking Sacramento?"

They talked some more, and decided on the Sacramento college. After their discussion, she fired up her computer, went online, and accepted the admission. She was officially enrolled in university. She texted Scott and the others and told them. Lydia was going to Stanford, she'd been accepted into Harvard and Princeton and all the top Ivy League schools, but had decided on Stanford because it was closer to home. The pack had agreed to stay within the California area after graduation, they felt the need, or responsibility, to be near Beacon Hills. Malia was going to the Community College, and Scott and Kira were both going to San Francisco. Everything was coming together perfectly.

….

Now that Stiles had a huge load off her shoulders, she could relax a little. She tried to focus on one thing at a time, and next up was the lacrosse grand final on Saturday. They had a last minute on practice on Friday afternoon, and were instructed by Coach to have an early night and rest up. Stiles definitely did that. She was so beat after practice that she went to sleep at 7pm and didn't wake up until her alarm went off at 8am the next morning. Her Dad had taken the day off so he could watch the game. Luckily, it was a home game and they didn't have to travel.

They got to the school at 8:40am and the team began warm-ups on the field as the opposing side arrived from Smithsfield. Stiles was sure that after having 13 hours of sleep, she would be well rested and energetic, but she was the exact opposite. It's not that she felt sleepy, or even tired, she just needed to sit or lie down. Her head was spinning and she could barely keep her eyes open. She did her best to hide it, though everyone saw it. Before the game started, Coach pulled her aside to talk.

"Christ, Stilinski," he said. "You look about as energetic as a sloth."

"Sorry, Coach," she mumbled, her vision blurring as she tried to focus on her face.

"I'm sitting you out for now," he told her. She was too out of it to protest, so she sat on the bench. Scott, Kira and Liam came over to see her.

"Are you okay?" Scott asked, a concerned look at on his face.

"Yeah, fine," she said. "Just had a big few weeks."

Scott and Kira shared a worried look, but the whistle blew for the players to go on the field and they had to leave. Stiles was disappointed that she couldn't play and that her Dad had taken the day off for nothing. They team had worked so hard this season to get to the grand finals and now she was letting them down. Not far into the game, they were already in the lead, and Coach was relaxed enough to talk to her as he watched the game.

"So what's wrong, Stilinski? You sick or something?" he asked, his eyes still on the game.

"No."

He leaned in closer to her so he could whisper.

"Is it… you know… a _girl thing_?" he said. "If it is, I _really _don't want to hear about it, but I can understand if you want to go home to… I don't know… eat chocolate or something."

Stiles looked at him in horror. Gross.

"No, Coach, it's not that," she replied.

"Right, good, well, okay," Coach said, stepping away from her and returning his full attention back to the game. Stiles did not have her period, so it couldn't be that. She thought it might be PMS, she usually got pretty irritable when she was due. When _was_ she due? She tried thinking back to the last time she had her period. When was that? She pulled out her phone and looked at her calendar, she kept the dates for everything on it. She scrolled back week by week. The last mark she had put as 'P', meaning period, was March 23rd. That was 5 weeks and 5 days ago, two days after her birthday party. She remembered having it the week that she and Derek had been staking out the gas station, because she thought it had added to her agitation during that time. She went through the calendar again. Surely she'd had a period since then? There wasn't anything marked down. If that was correct, that meant she was 12 days late. She'd probably just forgotten to mark it on the calendar. Even if that was true, she still couldn't remember having one. They had so much lacrosse practice over the last few weeks, she would have recalled it because it was so frustrating to have it at practice.

The whistle blew, snapping her to attention. One of their players had been injured and Stiles was called to the field to replace him. _Shit._ She grabbed her stick and trotted out to the field. Not only was she incredibly drained, but now she was also nervous as hell. She thought she was going to be sick. The whistle blew again and the game resumed, though Stiles wasn't paying any attention. Her head was swirling, her knees were weak, and her stomach was flipping. She was panicking. Okay, so her period was late. She had been super-stressed lately. Her period was normally so punctual though… and to be 12 days late, that was extreme. She didn't want the thought to enter her mind, yet it slipped in anyway.

Could she… possibly… be… pregnant?

No way, she thought. She'd had sex, one time. She remembered, they hadn't used a condom. _WHY THE FUCK DIDN'T WE USE A CONDOM? _She thought. The idea of her getting pregnant by Derek seemed impossible. She'd only recently started to like him, having his baby seemed like a stretch. Could werewolves and humans have babies? She was freaking out. Everything around her blurred and she nothing but the ground. Her mind and body couldn't withstand the inevitably anymore and her knees gave way.

The last thing she saw was the ground rushing up to meet her.


	15. Chapter 15

Sorry it's been so long since I posted!

**Chapter 15 **

By the time Stiles had regained consciousness, the game was over. Their team had won and they were the State Lacrosse Champions. She'd been taken off the field and into the locker room, where when she woke up Melissa was holding a wet cloth to her head and her father was by her side.

"Can you hear me Stiles?" Melissa spoke as her eyes flickered open.

"Yep," she groaned. She sat up slowly and was handed a cup of water and told to drink, which she did. She was unsurprisingly thirsty.

"What happened out there kiddo?" her Dad asked.

"Nothing," she said. "I just didn't feel well."

"Your Dad told me that you've been a bit tired lately?" Melissa inquired. "Is everything okay?"

"Yes!" she hissed. "Will everyone stop asking!"

"We're just concerned," her Dad spoke. "The last time you were having sleeping problems you were possessed by a Nogistune, so you'll have to forgive us for worrying."

"I know," Stiles mumbled. "But trust me I am not possessed. I've just been wearing myself out, that's all."

"Wearing yourself out?"

"Yeah. School and lacrosse and college stuff."

"Well, don't forget Stiles, you're only human. I think you just have a hard time keeping up with the pack sometimes because they can push their limitations, but you can't," Melissa advised.

"You're probably right," she agreed.

Melissa advised her to go the doctor to get a blood test and be checked out, but Stiles said she was fine. She would go home and rest for the rest of the weekend and if she still felt ill Monday morning then she would go. She went and said congratulations and goodbye to the team, sad that she was unable to celebrate with them, and then her Dad took her home. He made her a big sandwich and made her drink about four cups of water and they relaxed and watched television together. It was nice.

Stiles remembered what her last thoughts were before she fainted, though she tried not to think about it. She knew her Dad wouldn't let her leave the house alone for the rest of the day and she was enjoying their afternoon together, so she waited until the next morning and made up an excuse about going to visit Scott. In reality, she went to a drug store a couple of towns over and bought a pregnancy test. She could feel the judgemental eyes of the cashier as she paid for the item, but she ignored it. She had bigger things to think about than the opinion of one old woman.

There was no way she was going to do the test at home so she went to the bathroom at the back of the drug store and did it there. It was one of those disgusting bathrooms where the ground was wet with lord-knows-what and the toilet itself looked like it had never been cleaned. The sight almost made her sick. She put several layers on the seat before she sat down and read the instructions on the box.

_Remove tester stick from wrapper_. Done. _Place face up and hold as you urinate for approximately five seconds. _Good thing she really needed to pee. She placed the stick between her legs and did her best not to get anything on her hand. _Sit on a horizontal surface and wait for two minutes. _She placed it on the top of the toilet paper dispenser and waited. She found herself praying, her fingers crossed saying "negative, negative, negative". It was highly unlikely that was pregnant but she needed to rule out the possibility so she wouldn't freak out anymore. While the two minutes ticked by excruciatingly slowly she flushed the toilet and pulled up her pants. Her watched beeped. Two minutes were up. She picked up the stick and looked at the result. There were two pink lines. She checked the box to see what that meant. _One line not pregnant, two lines pregnant. _Her test was positive. She was pregnant.

Stiles stopped breathing as she stared at the stick, unblinking. _What_? It was positive. The test was positive. So, she was pregnant. Pregnant. Pregnant with a baby. Her baby. Derek's baby. Derek had gotten her pregnant.

"_FUCK_," she whispered, allowing herself to resume breathing again. How was this even possible? Derek was a werewolf, she was a human. They had sex _once_. What was inside her right now? Was it a werewolf? A human? Or was it some mutant? Maybe it would be disabled or something. What had she done? What was she going to do? Would she keep it? Get rid of it? Was she going to tell Derek? What about her Dad?

There were so many questions and fears running around her head. She didn't know how to answer any of them. She was hyperventilating and shaking, on the verge of a major panic attack. She knew what she had to do. She had to prioritize. What did she need to do first? _Okay, think Stiles, breathe_. First she needed to find out what exactly was in her. It would be too risky to go to a regular human doctor and she wanted to avoid Derek if possible, so there was only one other obvious person to see. Deaton.

She wrapped the stick up in toilet paper and shoved it in her bag – her natural cop instinct telling her to keep evidence – and jumped in her Jeep. She drove straight to the animal clinic and burst through the back door, where Deaton was tending to a canine patient. Deaton was certainly surprised to see Stiles in her state.

"Stiles," he said, helping the dog off the table and returning it to its cage. "What can I do for you?"

Stiles realized she was panting and slowed her breath.

"I have a question," she said. "It's more of a curiosity…"

"Go ahead," Deaton replied, giving her his full attention.

"Can a human get pregnant with a werewolf?" she asked, trying to seem indifferent, though she was screaming on the inside.

"Of course," he answered with a smile, as if the answer should have been obvious. Stiles felt her heart hit her stomach, it felt like she had been winded.

"H-how?" she stammered, no longer able to hide her worry.

"Werewolves are still biologically men," he said. "Their bodies work the same way."

"But they're _werewolves_," Stiles cried. Deaton could see she was desperate for a proper explanation.

"Think of their lycanthropy as more of a disease or a condition as opposed to a complete transformation of their bodies. Being a werewolf simply adds to their DNA, instead of changing it."

"But – "

"Many humans have children with werewolves. Some of the Hale family members who were killed in the fire were human partners of the werewolves. Derek's own father was a human. If werewolves relied solely on breeding with each other to produce children their numbers would be significantly lower."

"Wouldn't it turn the humans though? The female ones?"

"Only a bite or scratch can turn a human."

Stiles stood back, letting the information sink in. So it was possible for her to be pregnant with Derek's child.

"Are you alright?" Deaton asked, noting Stiles appearance. She knew she had to tell someone, and if she were going to need anyone's help – who she could also trust to keep it a secret – it would have to be Deaton.

"I think I'm pregnant," she admitted. "I took a test and it was positive."

"And you believe the father is a werewolf?"

"I _know_ the father is a werewolf."

Deaton processed this for a moment.

"What are you intending to do?" he asked.

"I have no idea," she sighed. "I don't even know what I'm supposed to do."

"Well, first things first. A pregnancy with a werewolf foetus is almost exactly alike to a normal human pregnancy, only the symptoms may be a bit worse. Morning sickness, fatigue, cravings. You'll need pre-natal vitamins and there's certain foods you cannot eat. You have to start taking care of your body."

"I don't even know if I want to keep it," she told him.

"That's fine, but until you do decide, it's best you be as healthy as possible."

"Thanks, Deaton," she smiled slightly.

She was already exhausted, physically and mentally, and the hardest part hadn't even started yet.


	16. Chapter 16

**Sorry I haven't been posting lately, been busy! So here's a nice long one!**

**Warning: sexual content in this chapter, as well as talk about abortion etc.**

**Chapter 16**

Later that night, Stiles lay sprawled out on her bed like a starfish. She should have been crying – as any normal pregnant 18-year-old girl would do – though mainly she was frustrated. Why did this have to happen to her? Was she going to keep it? If so, what about college and her Dad and money and Derek and her body and _everything else_? Just when she appeared to have her shit together, something else had to come along and fuck it up. She would take fighting the supernatural over a teen pregnancy any day.

She returned to her prioritizing technique and thought about her next step: was she going to keep it? There were 3 choices: adoption, abortion, or raising it herself. Adoption didn't seem like an option in this situation. She couldn't give up a werewolf baby and have it go mental like Malia did to her family. It would be wrong to give an unknowing couple that responsibility, and she didn't know of any werewolf couples looking to adopt, it's not as if they advertised it in the newspaper. Stiles was _not_ against abortion. She firmly believed that every woman had the right to decide not only the future of her body, but also the future of her life. So, she thought, she could get an abortion. It would solve everything, she wouldn't have to deal with her Dad or Derek or the kid. It was an easy solution.

But there was a nagging at the back of her mind. The reason Stiles was an only child wasn't by choice. As perfect and amazing as her mother had been, she had experienced many fertility problems, and Stiles was their sole success. When she was about six years old, her parents decided to try one last time, and Stiles remembered how devastated her mother had been when she lost it. Apparently it was the fourth miscarriage she'd had. It seemed like a huge insult to her mother, who cherished life so much and who's own was severely shortened, to have an abortion. After all, the baby was a part of her mother, it had her DNA. Then again, it also had the same DNA that ran through Peter Hale's vein. Stiles shuddered.

She'd always had an overwhelming need to protect her family and friends. She'd proven she was willing to die for them. She knew the baby was only the size of a pea or something, but she already felt that need to protect it, the same need that drove her to protect her loved ones. It was so small and fragile, and it was hers. It needed her. Stiles had never abandoned anyone in her life, no matter what the situation. Like Derek said, when Scott was bitten, she could have taken the easy way out and left. There were a million times where she should have just walked away, but she didn't, because Stiles never gave up on those who needed her. She found herself thinking about Allison, and the new Argent code she had created.

"We protect those who can't protect themselves."

That's when Stiles knew. There was no way she could get rid of this baby. She'd experienced too much death and loss and heartbreak in her life, it was time she saw a little life. Although she hadn't even known it existed until several hours ago, she already knew this was the right choice. Stiles was not a quitter. She didn't bail when the going got tough. She placed her hand on her stomach where she thought the baby might be and gently patted it.

"Everything's going to be okay," she spoke to it, though she was more so telling herself.

…..

The next day, Stiles started her new pregnancy health regime. She took vitamins morning and night, drank plenty of water, and ate healthy. After around a week of doing so, she began to feel better. Most of her energy returned, though she had trouble staying awake after 8pm. She was also trying not to stress herself out to much, which was difficult for her. She still had the task of telling her Dad and figuring out what to do about college. She continued to prioritize. Right now she would just focus on finishing school.

On Monday the 11th May, the Senior Prom King and Queen campaigns started. Stiles had completely forgotten all about Prom. It was 2 days after the Final Exams, so about two and a half weeks away. She did the math in her head. She would be 7 and a half weeks pregnant at Prom. _Great. _Prom was the only thing everyone could talk about, especially Lydia; she wouldn't shut up about it. What she was going to wear, make-up, limo, her date. Stiles did her best to seem interested but she couldn't care less. Lydia was of course campaigning for Prom Queen, though she was yet to find herself a King. There were a few names going around, including Scott's.

"If only Jackson were here," she would sigh. Stiles immediately decided to go stag. She didn't exactly have anyone to ask and she was too emotionally preoccupied at that moment to think about finding a date.

"You're going stag?!" Lydia squealed when she found out. "You can't go stag!"

"I can, and I will," Stiles said proudly. Lydia rolled her eyes and shook her head.

Scott, Kira and Malia joined them at the table. They all tensed up instantaneously.

"What's wrong?" Stiles asked, sensing their panic.

"I can smell something," Scott said.

"Me too," Kira added.

They continued to sniff the air as inconspicuously as they could.

"I think another werewolf has been here," Scott concluded. They looked at each other, scared. In unison, they hopped up from their table and Stiles and Lydia followed them as they walked out of the cafeteria and around the school, trailing the scent.

"It's everywhere," Malia said. It eventually led them outside to the front of the school. The turned to face one another.

"What should we do?" Lydia asked. Stiles was getting nervous, there'd been no trouble whatsoever since the Omegas incident, so she was afraid.

"I don't know," Scott admitted. "Maybe we should call Derek. He could trace it better than any of us."

Stiles tried to remain calm. Derek? She hadn't seen them since they had sex, and she wasn't hoping to see him so soon after finding out she was carrying his child. She'd needed more time to get her head together. She thought about leaving and simply not being around when Derek showed up, but she was too curious about the werewolf scent.

"Good idea," Lydia said. Scott pulled out his phone and dialled Derek's number. As he explained the situation, Stiles did her best to compose herself. What would she say to him? Would she tell him that she's pregnant? She wanted more time to think it through, but Scott told them he was on his way over. _Shit_. _All right, you're going to see Derek, you're going to see the father of your baby, just act as you would any other time you see him_, she thought.

The bell rang and lunchtime was over, though they remained out the front, waiting for him to arrive. It didn't take long for his black SUV to pull in to the car park and he stepped out of the car, jeans and a blue shirt and leather jacket. Stiles bit her lip, suddenly remembering him on top of her… inside her… his hips hard against her own. She felt an overwhelming urge to jump on him, but she kept herself in check.

"When did you first smell the scent?" Derek asked, getting straight to business. Stiles was relieved, no awkward hello.

"About fifteen minutes ago," Scott answered. "We sat down for lunch and it just appeared out of nowhere."

"In the cafeteria?"

"Yes, but we tracked it all across the school. It smells like another werewolf…yet, different."

"Different how?"

"It's almost familiar, though not from any werewolf I've met before."

Derek nodded and furrowed his brow. Stiles studied his face as he thought. He had great bone structure, something she hoped their baby would inherit. _Their baby_. The words echoed in her head. It was still so surreal.

"I'll go inside and see what I can find," he said. "Stay here so your scent doesn't distract me."

They stood aside and allowed Derek to enter the school. Stiles sighed and relaxed. That was easy. They waited five, ten minutes in tense silence until Derek came back. He screwed up his face as he neared them.

"What is it?" Malia asked.

"I couldn't smell anything inside, but just as I neared you now I caught it."

"You think it's coming from one of us?" said Lydia. Derek nodded. He moved closer to them and smelled them individually. First Scott, Kira, Malia, then Stiles was next. He didn't look at her as he leaned in towards her and she didn't know where to look either. Now it was weird.

Derek took a whiff and drew back slightly before going in closer, so close that his nose was almost touching her neck. She badly wanted him to lean forward a tad more and kiss her neck. He didn't. Instead, he grabbed the front of her shirt, and using his strength, lifted her up and pinned her against the wall, just as he used to do in the good old days when they hated each other.

"It's _you_," he growled, literally. Stiles struggled in his grasp, which he refused to relinquish despite the protests of her friends.

"I don't know what you're talking about!" she shouted.

"Why do you have a werewolf scent on you?" he demanded. He was frightening her. Of course, by now she had figured out why she might smell like a wolf – because she was growing one inside her, but she wasn't ready to admit that.

"I don't know!" she repeated. "Now let me go!"

Derek dropped her and she was back on her own feet. She tried to shove him away from her but only succeeded in forcing him to take a step back. It was Scott's hand that forced him to move over.

"Are you okay?" Kira asked. Stiles nodded.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Scott said to Derek.

"Smell her!" Derek barked. "She's been close to another werewolf we don't know. You'll see what I mean."

The three of them hesitantly smelt Stiles, of which she was extremely uncomfortable. She felt very self-conscious.

"He's right," Scott said reluctantly. She tried to act surprised, as if she didn't know why she might smell like a wolf.  
"What could that be from?" she asked.

"Have you been with a werewolf recently, intimately?" Derek spoke. She looked at him, her face red.

"No," she said quietly. _No other than you_, she said in her head.

"So what could it be?" asked Scott.

"I don't know," Derek replied. "Maybe a werewolf has been into your room and touched your clothes."

"Her _room_," Scott said, frightened. Stiles hated seeing her friends so distressed, yet she bit her tongue. She wasn't ready for them to know.

"One of us should go to her house and check it out," Kira suggested.

"I will," Derek volunteered instantly. "You're all too familiar with Stiles' scent; I'll be able to differentiate the smells better."

Scott looked from him to Stiles, and back again.

"You're not going to hurt her? Why should I trust you to be alone with her?" Scott said. Stiles almost laughed, if only he knew how close they had actually been.

"I promise I won't."

Scott nodded. Derek half-looked at Stiles. "We should go now, while the scent is still fresh."

"Okay."

She said goodbye to her friends and got into Derek's SUV. She'd never been in his car before, though he'd been in her trusty Jeep plenty of times. She folded her arms across her chest and stared out the window the entire drive, nervously shaking her leg. Derek said nothing, as per usual. They got to her house and went inside. Her Dad was at work so they were alone.

Derek couldn't catch a scent downstairs so they went up to her room.

"Wow," he said as they entered it. "The smell is everywhere."

Stiles could feel her heart beating a thousand miles per minute. And if she could feel it, Derek could probably hear it. She didn't know what to do.

"That's… odd," her voice croaked. She was glad she had hidden her pregnancy pack of vitamins and stuff under her bed. Derek continued to search through her stuff, fingering through her belongings.

"It's strange," he said after he had looked around.

"Maybe it's not a werewolf," she said.

"It is."

She tried to think of a reason, an excuse that might explain why she smelt wolf-ie.

"I know!" she exclaimed, as if she had an epiphany. "I washed some of Scott's clothes in with mine the other day because his machine was broken, so maybe the smells have just got mashed into a Scott-werewolf-Stiles-detergent hybrid."

It was a horrible excuse, she knew, but she had to stall his train of thought before he figured out the truth.

"I guess that's plausible," Derek mulled over the idea in his head.

"Yeah and it was his lacrosse uniform too, so it was pretty smelly," she fake laughed to make the act seem more convincing.

"You haven't been near any other wolves?" he continued to question.

"Other than Scott and the rest of the pack… No."

Something like relief momentarily flashed across his face. Stiles glanced over his body once again. She wanted him so badly. She feared that if she touched him she wouldn't be able to stop. She thought perhaps the pregnancy hormones were making her blood boil.

"Why?" she said flirtatiously. "Would you be jealous?"

Derek looked at her, confused. Her sudden mood change was a surprise.

"No," he replied. "Just concerned."

She leaned against her desk and bit her lip.

"Concerned?"

"If there was another werewolf in town I'd want to know about it."

"Is that the only reason?" she asked. He hesitated.

"I wouldn't want you to get hurt," he said quietly, not meeting her eyes.

"Is that right?" she smiled. "And here I thought you didn't have a heart."

He half-smiled and – still not looking at her directly – moved closer to where she leaned against the desk so that he was standing directly in front of her.

"I'm not entirely an animal."

"Could have fooled me."

There was silence. Derek placed his hand cautiously onto Stiles waist, as if testing whether she would accept his touch, which she did.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"For what?"

"For not talking to you since…"

"Since we had sex?"

"Yes," he breathed.

"I didn't expect you too," she said.

"But I should have. It was kind of a big deal."

He had no idea just how big of a deal it was, and what it had caused, but she didn't want to spoil the moment.

"I guess you still owe me then," she laughed. "You keep making mistakes and apologizing for it."

"Yes that seems to be a recurring thing," he frowned. "So how can I make it up to you?"

"Well, there is this one thing I really want," she teased.

"What is it?" he asked, completely oblivious. Stiles rolled her eyes, put her arms around his neck, and kissed him before he had a chance to object. She knew that once she started she wouldn't be able to stop. She ran her hands over his body and when he didn't respond as she wanted, she moved his hands onto her breasts and resumed putting hers all over him. He took the bait and gently massaged her chest, though Stiles noticed they were more tender than usual. She remembered that was another pregnancy symptom, sore breasts.

Her appetite grew and things moved along quickly. They ripped off each other's shirts and Derek propped her on top of the desk so their waists were at the same height. She could feel him pressing into her, in between her legs. At that second she didn't care about foreplay or getting herself ready or whatever, she needed to have him then and there.

She swung her legs to the side in order to pull her shorts and underwear off and then put herself around Derek once more. He pulled away momentarily.

"Again?" he asked.

"You don't want to?"

"As if I could say no now," he laughed. "Only if you're okay with it."

She leaned forward and whispered in his ear, "Stop being such a gentleman and screw me."

He unzipped his jeans and pulled them and his underwear down enough so that his boner was out. He positioned Stiles at the edge of the desk and leaned into her, entering her in one swift, firm motion. She gasped. It was only her second time, so she was still a little tight, but he soon took care of that. He wasn't slow and steady like he was the first time, now he was quick and hard, gripping tightly onto her thighs and he pushed in and out. He didn't mess around, he meant business. It didn't take long for Stiles to feel as if she might explode. There was no time to stop and enjoy it, no time to moan. All she could do was hang on to his shoulders and wait until she inevitably came, which happened the same time as he did. He bit into her shoulder playfully and sighed as he gave a final push.

They were both breathing heavily. Instead of savouring the moment as they had previously, Derek pulled up his pants immediately and slipped into his shirt. He didn't seem happy. Stiles got dressed.

"We shouldn't be doing this," he said. _HA, too late for that,_ she thought.

"Derek, it's just sex," she scoffed. "You don't actually owe me anything."

He turned to her, a pained look in his eyes.

"I don't want to hurt you," he admitted.

"You're not going to. I'm strong, remember? _You _said that," she reminded him. He held her face in his hands and kissed her softly on the nose. She closed her eyes and inhaled his smell.

"I have this way of ruining everything good that comes into my life," he continued.

"You've already ruined my virtue," she joked. He didn't laugh.

"I don't think we should do this again."

Stiles felt disappointed, and then concerned. She was pregnant with his child, she needed to talk to him some time.

"I want to," she said. "I like the way I feel when I'm with you. Even if half of its confusion."

"It's wrong, Stiles."

"Does this feel wrong to you?" she leaned in and kissed him on the lips ever so lightly.

"No." his voice was a whisper.

"Then nothing else matters, for now."


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

Stiles had her head in the toilet bowl. It's all she had been doing for the past week or so. The worst part was that it was the second last day of her final exams, a few days before Prom, and as if being pregnant and stressed wasn't enough, but having severe morning sickness that was near impossible to hide was even worse. If she wasn't vomiting, she was close to it. She was around 7.5 weeks along now. She couldn't wait for the first trimester to be over, when the nausea usually subsided. Luckily, everyone had been distracted enough not to notice. The Sheriff was picking up a lot of shifts so he could start adding to Stiles' college fund, and her friends were also busy undertaking their exams. She was just another nervous teen struggling to get through her last academic week of school.

Thankfully, her nausea settled by the time she was ready to go to school. She had a two-hour chemistry and two hour biology exams that day. She didn't make much effort to get dressed up for school, and she was feeling a lot hotter (temperature wise) lately, so she wore shorts and a Star Wars t-shirt and stuck her hair in a ponytail. When she got to the school, her friends couldn't help but notice her appearance. She looked thinner, her eyes sunken, and she wouldn't stop yawning.

"Wow," Lydia remarked. "You look…"

"I look like shit," she snapped. She wasn't in the mood for the fashion police.

"Up late studying?" Scott said.

"Yep," she lied. She was doing a lot of that lately, and was getting good at it.

They went in for their chemistry exam, had a one-hour lunch break, and then finished the day off with the biology exam. They had one test left tomorrow, English, and then they were done. Stiles was pretty confident she would do well on that exam, so she and Scott played Xbox. She realized she hadn't said anything for a while until Scott spoke.

"Stiles?" he asked. She turned to him, her head half in a cloud.

"Yeah? Sorry."

Scott stared at her, concerned.

"Are you okay? You've seemed so different ever since those Omegas attacked you," he said. Stiles felt like she was going to cry. It was easy to hide what was going on with her when nobody seemed to care, but she didn't know how much longer she could keep it up. She needed a friend, not just Deaton, yet she wanted to wait until after graduation before she told anyone. She needed those last few weeks of normalcy before shit metaphorically hit the fan.

"Ask me after graduation," she replied. "I'll tell you then."

Scott was obviously confused, but he simply nodded. He trusted Stiles.

Later that night, after Scott had gone home and the Sheriff was back from work, they sat at the kitchen table, eating dinner. Well, her Dad was eating, Stiles was just picking at her spaghetti and imagining what it was going to be like to throw it up in the morning.

"What's wrong, kiddo?" he asked, noticing Stiles' lack of appetite. She sighed.

"Nothing, Dad."

"I'm not a _complete _idiot," he joked.

"Are you sure?" she laughed. They left it at that. Stiles felt somewhat relieved that people were noticing and caring about her, though she wanted them to just leave it alone. _One thing at a time._

Stiles half-heartedly studied for her English exam after dinner, until she heard a knock at her window, followed by the sight of Derek Hale climbing through it. He'd been visiting her every now and then, though only at night, and only when it was convenient for him. He had her wrapped around his finger, and she loved it.

"Exams today?" he asked.

"Chemistry and biology. English final tomorrow."

"Nervous?"

She wanted to say no, as she actually felt confident about that test, but she said yes so she had an excuse for acting jittery. She closed her textbook and walked over to him, pushing him onto his back on the bed. She climbed atop and straddled him. No matter how tired or sick she felt, she always wanted him. Ever since the second the second time they had sex, Derek had insisted they use condoms. She had agreed solely because he would find it suspicious if she didn't want to use them. It didn't feel as good with them, but it kept Derek at bay, and that felt better than anything did. She'd also been keeping her bra on during sex, her breasts were so tender and it hurt too much not to wear one. Afterwards, Derek would normally leave almost straightaway, but this time he lay with her, gently massaging her body until she drifted into a deep and peaceful sleep. It was only after she was out that he left.

…

Finals exams were over. They had defeated high school. They had a free day Friday, and then Saturday night, it was Prom. The pack, excluding Liam, went to Lydia's house to get ready, and their parents popped by to take photos of them as a group. Lydia did Stiles' makeup and put her in a beautiful dark-purple silk dress with matching dark lipstick. She thought her Dad was going to cry when he saw her.

"You look like your Mom," his voice croaked.

"Thanks, Dad." She hugged him.

Everyone had thrown in some money and they hired a limousine to chaperone them. Lydia ended up going with one of the boys on the lacrosse team, Kira and Scott went together, and Malia and Stiles went by themselves.

Despite being tired and constantly nauseous and alone, Stiles had a great time. This would be the second last time her classmates would be together as a collective whole. It was graduation in a week, and then that was it. She tried her best to push the pregnancy out of her mind for just one night, and enjoyed herself. She mainly danced with Malia, as they were both alone, but Kira allowed her have a slow dance with Scott. It was nice that, even if only for a short time, they were normal teenagers. Lydia and her date, the lacrosse guy, were named Prom King and Queen.

It was an after-Prom tradition to go home with your date, but seeing as Malia and Stiles didn't have one, they walked home together. Her Dad was in bed by the time she got home so she went straight up to her room. She was exhausted.

She wasn't surprised to see Derek waiting in her room when she opened the door. He looked at her, startled by her appearance. It wasn't very often that Stiles wore a dress, let alone makeup and heels. She looked beautiful. After recovering from the surprise, he wrapped his arms around her waist and drew her close to him.

"You look beautiful," he told her. "How was Prom?"

"Good, actually."

She leaned her head against his chest and closed her eyes, breathing him in. She could have stayed like that forever. Eventually, he let her go, she took off her dress, and they climbed into bed. She was much too tired to do anything sexually so they just lay there silently until she fell asleep. He was gone in the morning, as usual.

…

Now that school was over, Stiles only had a week to wait until the graduation ceremony and the after-party at Lydia's house, and it was a horrible week. Somehow, her morning sickness got worse and grew into an all-day sickness. She couldn't keep anything down, including water, and that drained her already weakened body. She spent most of the week in her room, playing Xbox and throwing up.

The graduation ceremony was uneventful. Stiles spent most of it trying to keep her stomach in check. It was June 6, and summer had arrived. Now she could add _excessive sweating_ to her list of pregnancy symptoms. The best part of the day was when Stiles name was called and she walked onto the podium, shook the principal's hand, and received her diploma. She spotted her father's face in the crowd. There were tears streaming down his cheeks, and his face was full of pride.

After the ceremony ended, everyone headed over to Lydia's house for the party. Stiles poured herself a glass of juice and pretended it had vodka in it. It didn't take long for everyone to get extremely drunk and the party was in full swing. She enjoyed herself, and spent most of the time talking to everyone, knowing that she might not see a lot of them for a while. Everyone was heading his or her own way. When the party ended, Stiles elected to drive Scott, Malia, and Kira home. As they couldn't get drunk, they were sober, and in high spirits. They had successfully survived all their hardships and graduated high school.

"So," Scott said as they drove along. "Are you going to tell us what's been up with you?"

"What?" Stiles scoffed. She didn't feel like talking about it. "There's nothing wrong."

"You said to ask after graduation, so I'm asking," he said.

"We know something's wrong," Kira added.

"Yeah you're tired all the time and you smell gross," Malia chimed in.

"Thanks," Stiles frowned.

"We're your friends, Stiles, you can tell us anything," Scott reminded her. Stiles thought about it. She was aching to tell someone about her situation and she had put it off for a while now. She was 9 weeks pregnant and she wouldn't be able to hide it for much longer.

"Fine," she gave in. Kira and Malia, who were sitting in the back seat, leaned forward so they could hear her better. "There _is_ something I've been hiding from you all. Only Deaton knows."

Scott was confused. "Deaton?"

"What is it?" Malia demanded, growing impatient. Stiles didn't know what to say to ease them into it, so she figured she would just get straight to it.

"I'm pregnant," she said.

"What? Did you say you're pregnant?"

"Yes. I'm 9 weeks."

"9 weeks!" Scott exclaimed. "Why didn't you tell us about this sooner? How long have you known?"

"I wanted to wait until graduation was over. My Dad doesn't know."

"What are you going to do?" Kira asked.

"I'm keeping it."

There was silence for a moment as they absorbed the news.

"Who is the father?" Scott asked eventually.

Before she could say anything, she saw lights in the corner of her eye. She turned her head and saw a car approaching them at top speed. The last thing she heard was Scott shout her name before the car slammed into the side of the Jeep.


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

Stiles opened her eyes slowly, her senses going into overdrive. Her world was upside down. Literally. The Jeep was lying on its roof, leaving Stiles from her seat, strapped in by her belt. She could feel a trickle of blood running up her face, dripping on the roof. As her senses returned, she became aware of an intense pain in her left arm and ankle, where the car had slammed into her side of the Jeep. She tried to lift her head up and look around, but it was too difficult while she was still stuck in her seat.

"Stiles," she heard her name. She turned her head to see Malia crouching beside her outside of the car.

"Malia?" she said with relief. At least one of her friends was okay.

"Just stay there, okay? An ambulance is on its way."

"Where's Scott? Kira? Are they hurt?"

"We're fine, everything's fine."

Stiles suddenly remembered. Her baby. Her hand flew to her stomach. She didn't feel any pain, which was good, right?

"My baby," she said, beginning to panic. What if there was something wrong?

"I think it's okay," Malia told her.

"How do you know?"

"I just do. Trust me."

Stiles heard sirens. An ambulance and a police car had arrived. The paramedics quickly set about pulling Stiles gently out of the wreck and lifting her onto a stretcher. All the movement worsened the pain in her arm and leg and she had to grit her teeth to stop herself from screaming. Scott, Kira, and Malia were examined by the paramedics. They were obviously okay, just a few scratches and bruises, which naturally confused the officers. As Stiles was lifted into the ambulance, she heard the police officer taking their statement.

On the way to the hospital, Stiles told the paramedic tending to her that she was 9 weeks pregnant. She didn't want them giving her any drugs or doing anything that might hurt the baby. Melissa was waiting in the emergency room for them when they arrived at the hospital. She and the doctor tended to her scratches, which there were an abundance of. She had to get stitches under her ear, on her bicep, and hip. She also had a concussion, 2 broken ribs, and severe whiplash. Her entire body was X-Rayed. They assured her the level of radiation exposure would not do any harm to the baby. The scans show her left ankle was completely broken and her left wrist was fractured. After they had put her ankle and wrist in a cast and cleaned her up, she was put in a private room. The doctor left her alone with Melissa to rest.

"So I guess you heard?" Stiles asked as awkward silence filled the air.

"Yes, I did," Melissa admitted. "What does your father think of it?"

"He doesn't know yet."

Melissa raised her eyebrows.

"You should probably tell him then, he's on his way."

She gave Stiles some alone time before the Sheriff arrived. She mentally prepared herself, which was hard considering they gave her painkillers that were dulling her cognition and senses. She tried to formulate a speech in her head of what she would say to him, something she had been trying to do ever since she found out she was pregnant. She didn't have much time before her father burst in the door, his eyes red and his body sweaty. He was clearly dishevelled.

"Stiles! Are you okay?" he asked, glancing over her broken body. She must have looked awful.

"I'm… alive," she said. Her usual carefree attitude was gone. She was in too much emotional and physical pain to wear her 'everything's fine' façade.

"I just stopped by at the crash, the Jeep looks totalled."

"I know," she sighed. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry, whoever hit you drove through a red light, they're to blame. We'll catch them."

"What?" she tried to remember what happened after the Jeep was hit. Where did the other car go? Was it still there when the ambulance came?

"Yeah, the low-lives bailed and left their car behind," he told her.

"Oh."

"I'm just glad you're alive," he said, kissing her on the forehead. It hurt slightly but she didn't show it. The Sheriff pulled up a chair to the bedside and sat down, holding her hand. She knew she couldn't lie to him any longer.

"Dad, there's something I need to tell you. I can't put it off anymore," she began.

"You can tell me anything, Stiles."

She took a deep breath and swallowed her fear.

"I've been keeping something from you for a while now, because I didn't want you to know until after graduation. But you need to know," she said. "I'm pregnant, Dad."

He let go of her hand.

"Pregnant?"

"Yes."

"You were just in a car crash. You hurt your head."

"Yes but – "

"I'm getting the doctor," he said, ignoring her. She tried to object but he wouldn't listen. He called in the doctor, who confirmed what Stiles had said and reassured them that the baby was fine. When the doctor left, her Dad stood by the doorway for the longest time, leaning against the frame. The silence was killing Stiles.

"I'm so sorry," she cried. He looked at her, shook his head, and then left the room, leaving her alone to cry herself to sleep. When Stiles awoke, she was in a world of pain. Every inch of her body ached and burned, though her ankle was probably the worst. Tears instantly streamed down her face and she groaned in agony. She felt a hand touch hers and the pain went away. She looked up to see Scott sitting beside her, gripping her arm.

…

She stayed in hospital for five days, to monitor her concussion and the baby and all of her wounds. Her Dad didn't come back to visit, but Melissa told her he'd been asking if she was okay. At least that was something. When she was finally discharged, she went to stay at Scott's house so Melissa could help take of her. She couldn't shower and she needed someone to help bathe her. She was relieved that she was alive and her baby was safe, but she was majorly depressed otherwise. School was over and Scott worked at the clinic most days so she was often alone. She didn't feel like playing Xbox and spent most of her time reading baby books or sleeping. Melissa helped ease her morning sickness slightly so she wasn't throwing up as much, but it was still pretty bad. Kira, Malia, Lydia, and even Liam came to visit her all the time. She didn't hear from Derek. She wondered if he had found out somehow and had left. She was too exhausted to care. Her friends didn't ask her about the pregnancy unless she voluntarily spoke about it.

After three weeks had passed, Stiles had to go back to the hospital for an ultrasound. She was now 12 and a half weeks along, so she'd passed through the first trimester. Melissa and Scott went with her, but when they arrived, the Sheriff was sitting in the waiting room. He had a pain look on his face, as if he hadn't slept in a long time. His eyes filled up tears when he saw Scott pushing her in the wheelchair, which she need because her broken wrist and ribs made it difficult to use crutches.

"Hi, Stiles," he said.

"Hi, Dad."

"I'm sorry," he continued. "I just needed some time to think and clear my head."

"It's okay. I'm glad you're here," she smiled, crying.

When the sonographer called them in, Scott and Melissa remained in the waiting room and her Dad went in with her.

"It's been a long time since I've been to one of these," he said as the sonographer squirted the cool gel on Stiles' stomach. They watched the screen eagerly as the sonographer pointed out the baby. Head, arms, legs. They listened to the flutter of its heartbeat.

"That's a very healthy heart," the sonographer said. "You're taking good care of your baby, Miss Stilinski."

After they got the all clear, Stiles was given a printed picture of her baby. The Sheriff agreed that it was probably best for Stiles to stay at the McCall's while she still had her ankle and wrist in a cast. It would be a bit awkward if her Dad had to bathe his 18-year-old daughter. That afternoon, Stiles went home to get some more of her clothes and belongings and had dinner with her Dad. Afterwards, he took her back to the McCall's. Melissa bathed her and helped her into bed in the spare room, which had been Isaac's old room. It was small and the bed was squeaky, but Stiles was grateful for the help.

Not long after she had fallen asleep, she heard the floorboards creaking near bear and instantly froze. Someone was in the room. She began to panic. They hadn't caught whoever crashed into the side of her Jeep yet. What if that hadn't been an accident? She slowly and painfully sat up and reached under the bed where her trusty aluminium baseball what was. She knew that she was practically defenceless, but she wasn't going down without a fight. Scott was at Kira's that night so he couldn't protect her. Bat in hand; she used her casted arm to turn on the lamp, revealing her intruder in the light. Only it wasn't an intruder. It was Derek Hale. Stiles felt sick to her stomach. She was not prepared for this.

Derek sat on the bed beside her and stroked her face gently. Stiles was a little surprised.

"I came as soon as I heard," he said. "How are you? Are you okay?"

She was suspicious. "Heard what?" she asked.

"About the crash," he told her.

"You didn't know? Have you been living under a rock?" she hissed. She was feeling rather defensive for some reason. Hormones, probably.

"I told you I was going to visit Cora in South America. There's no reception where she lives, I had no way of knowing," he informed her.

"I don't remember you telling me that."

"I left a few days before your graduation."

"Well… good for you." She tried to fold her arms across her chest but it didn't really work with her thick cast. Derek frowned at her, the sort of way he used to look at her when they hated each other, back before he let his walls down for her.

"Are you mad at me?" he asked, his voice flat.

"Not mad. Just pissed off. You never seem to be around when something bad happens, but when the dust settles you just bat your pretty eyes at me and apologise and feel sorry for me and then everything is just a-okay," she snapped. She saw him clench his jaw and he stood up. He walked over to the other side of the room.

"What do you want from, Stiles?" he said. "I've made it very clear I'm not interested in anything romantic."

"I know!"

"Then what's the problem? I came here – as a friend – to see if you were alright. I'm sorry if I've hurt your feelings." Stiles didn't say anything. Derek leaned against the chest of drawers behind him.

"Maybe it's best if we don't do whatever this anymore," he suggested.

"Fine," Stiles agreed.

"I'll leave then."

As he pushed himself off the drawers, a piece of paper he had been leaning on flittered to the floor. He picked it up and his paled when he glanced at it. Stiles leaned over and saw it was the ultrasound picture of the baby. She almost fainted.

He stared at the photo for a long time before turning to Stiles.

"What's this?" he asked, his voice incredibly low, almost a whisper. Stiles was too scared to speak, he was scaring her. He waited a bit longer for her to say something, though she didn't.

"Is this yours?" he continued. She nodded slightly. He looked at the photo again.

"You're pregnant," it wasn't a question, but a statement.

"Yes," she squeaked. He kept looking at the picture in his hand.

"And it's mine."

"Yes."

He carefully placed the picture back on the drawers and spoke with his back to her.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he growled, his voice threatening. Now she was _really_ scared.

"There just never seemed to be a good time," she mumbled. He turned around, his face red with rage.

"_Never a good time_? There have been _plenty _of times when you could have told me you were pregnant with my child."

"I didn't think you'd want anything to do with me or it anyway. I wanted to wait until after graduation to tell anyone, and then the car crash happened and you weren't here and my Dad was mad at me," she explained. "I'm just so tired and sick all of the time and I thought that would go away after the first trimester but it hasn't got any better. I didn't want to have to deal with us."

"The first trimester? How far along are you?" he demanded.

"Twelve and a half weeks."

He clenched his fists by his side, and Stiles shrunk back in the bed.

"I can't believe this!" he yelled.

"I'm sorry, okay!?" she yelled back, though it hurt her ribs. She winced in pain and clutched at her side, feeling the burn. Derek hesitated, then tried to hold her arm to help take away the pain, but she pushed his hand away.

"Just go," she groaned. "I don't want your help. I can do this by myself."

She rolled over on her side so she was facing the wall, away from him. She could still hear him in the room. Eventually, he left. As soon as he did, she began to cry. Cry because she was in physical pain, and mainly because she was scared. She was a teenager about to raise Derek's werewolf baby all by herself with no job and no money.

In that moment, the only thing she wanted in the world was the thing that was unreachable. Her mother.


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19 **

**Warning: Violence in this chapter! Poor Stiles! Also, would love your opinion on whether you would like Sterek to have a boy or girl!**

Stiles read through her 'baby information' booklet. She was now 16 weeks, and her baby was the size of an avocado. She only really began to show a couple of weeks ago, but now she was popping out at a rapid pace. It was getting hard to hide the fact that she was pregnant. She was supposed to be starting college in a month's time, though she and her Dad had not yet discussed their options, she as just glad that he was on board now. In fact, he seemed more excited about it than she was. He kept pushing her to tell him who the baby's father was, though she would only say he wasn't in the picture anymore. Her friends assumed that it was the made-up boy she had lost her virginity to, and she didn't say anything to correct them. For all she cared, her baby's father _was_ made-up. Derek hadn't tried to contact her since he found out she was pregnant, which was a relief. She was doing this on her own and she wasn't going to let Derek distract or confuse her.

After examining her growing bump in the mirror, she was drawn down the hall by a loud banging noise. She had her arm cast removed a week ago, so she could now use crutches to move around. She opened the door to the spare bedroom to find her Dad bent over a stack of wood.

"Dad?" she said, getting his attention. He turned around and stood up, covered in sweat and sawdust.

"Hey, Stiles, how you feeling this morning?" he asked.

"Fine. Err… what are you doing?" she responded. They hardly ever used that room.

"Getting the baby's room ready," he told her. She looked around, the walls had been painted white, the windows had been cleaned and re-screened, and the stack of wood at his feet was actually the parts to a crib.

"Wow," she breathed, taken aback. "Don't you think it's a bit early for that?"

"Well, I just remember when your Mom was pregnant with you, we left it a bit last minute and it was a rush to get everything ready before you arrived," he explained. "So I want this room to be nice and ready for when my granddaughter gets here."

"Granddaughter? I don't know if it's a boy or a girl yet," she said.

"It's going to be a girl, I know it. Mini-Stiles he said proudly.

"God I hope not. Then she'll be a handful," she sighed. "And a disappointment."

Her Dad hugged her and rubbed her arm gently.

"You're not a disappointment, Stiles," he told her. "I'm proud of you and love you no matter what. You're going to be a great parent."

"Only because I had the best parents." She hugged him back.

"Hey, I was thinking we could drive down to the hardware store today and pick out some paint for the room? Maybe a nice pink?" he suggested.

"I'm all for your enthusiasm about having a granddaughter, but I think for now we should get a gender-neutral colour. A nice yellow or something."

"Probably a good idea," he chuckled.

Stiles got dressed – which took a long time considering her leg was in a cast and her arm was still sore. Some of her clothes were starting to get tight, but luckily she was a bit of a tomboy and had lots of baggy shirts. Once she was ready, they headed down to the hardware story and began browsing the paint section, Stiles hobbling along the aisles on her crutches. They eventually settled on a soft, pale yellow and took the swatch up to the counter so they could order the paint. Stiles realized she needed to use the bathroom.

"Is there a bathroom around here?" she asked the man behind the counter.

"Didn't you go before we left?" her Dad pointed out.

"Well I need to go again," she whispered, getting embarrassed. Frequent urination was one of her least favourite pregnancy symptoms.

"It's out the back, you'll need a key," the cashier told her, handing her the key.

"Do you need help?" her Dad asked.

"No!" she yelled, definitely embarrassed now. She slowly moved outside and to the back of the building. There was a single unisex bathroom, which was absolutely filthy and Stiles had to hold her breath the entire time, which was a struggle because of her leg and crutches. When she had finished, she went outside for fresh air, but it wasn't enough to settle her stomach. She felt a rush of sickness, rushed to the closest scrap of shrubbery, and threw up. Her nausea had only settled slightly in the past few weeks, though not enough to stop her being sick over bad smells. She wiped her mouth and turned around to see three men standing behind her.

She had no time to react or speak before she was struck over the head, and it was lights out.

When Stiles opened her eyes, her vision was blurry and her temple was pounding. She quickly became aware that she was sitting upright, strapped to a chair. Her casted leg remained untied, though her hands and uninjured leg were bound. Apart from the blow to her head, she appeared to have no other injuries. She couldn't feel any pain in her abdomen, though she still feared for her baby. She looked around her. She was in a basement. There was nothing in there except the chair she sat on and a lone window at the opposite end of the room, which was shut. She struggled in the chair, trying to find a weakness in the bonds.

"I'm curious," she heard a man's voice from behind her. "What did you plan to do after you had freed yourself from that chair?"

He moved in front of her so that she had a full view of him. It was Maximilian, the Omega werewolf who had attacked her months ago. She tried to remain calm.

"I see you got yourself knocked up," he said, gesturing to her swelling stomach. She instinctively went to put her hands on her belly, but the bonds prevented her from doing so.

"I thought you and your friend got scared off," she hissed, perhaps to confidently.

"Scared, no. Startled, yes. We weren't expecting to find a true wolf," he said. "So we left, regrouped, and came back."

"And now you should leave again."

"Why would we do that? We're having so much fun!" he laughed.

"What kind of fun?" she asked, worried.

"Well, totalling your Jeep, that was a real hoot."

Stiles heart dropped. They had been the ones that crashed into her and then fled the scene, almost killing her.

"You could've killed me and my friends," she gritted her teeth furiously.

"We didn't intend to, just wanted to mess with your heads," he admitted.

"I'm _pregnant_, would you really harm an unborn child?!" she yelled.

"No. But an unborn werewolf is another story."

"How do you know it's a werewolf?" she asked curiously.

"I can smell it," he grinned maliciously. Damn, she had forgotten about that.

"What do you want from me? My Dad was waiting for me at that store, he would've noticed I was gone about a minute later, which means the whole Beacon Hills police force, and my friends, are out looking for me."

"That's exactly the point," he told her. "We've had enough fun messing with your friends, now it's time for the big show."

"What do you mean 'messing with my friends'? What else have you done?" she demanded.

"They didn't tell you? We've been spooking them for weeks. Following them, making sure they don't sleep, and other werewolf scare-tactics."

Stiles was hurt. Her friends hadn't said a word about that to her. She'd been so busy wrapped up in her own problems, physical and emotional, that she didn't think of them.

"Please just leave us alone," she said quietly.

"Once we have your True Alpha's power, we will. Anyone who stands in our way until then will suffer the consequences. But now, the show begins."

He gestured to whoever was standing behind Stiles and she untied from the chair, only to be gripped by two pairs of strong hands with sharp claws. One of them she recognized from the night she first met Maximilian – Diego. The other she had never seen before.

"I see your pack has grown," she said as they dragged her out of the basement. They carried her into the house above them and then outside into the cool summer air. It was dusk. There were another two Omegas standing in the front yard, waiting for them. How long had she been out? Hours? Days? They appeared to be at an empty house on the outskirts of town, heading into the woods. If she screamed it was unlikely someone would hear her.

"Time to call your friends," Maximilian said. He nodded to Diego, who began to dig his claws into Stiles' arm again, like they had before the night they first met, which had resulted in her scars.

"Wait! No! Stop! Please!" she begged, desperately struggling under the grip of the two Omegas. "Not like that!"

Maximilian raised his hand and Diego stopped.

"Please don't hurt me again," she pleaded. "I can give you Scott's number, you can call him, and you don't have to hurt me."

Maximilian moved closer to her.

"No, but we want to," he grinned, his eyes wild. He lifted his leg up and swiftly stomped down, breaking through Stiles' cast and crushing her already broken ankle.

She screamed like she had never screamed in her life. It was the worst pain she had ever felt. More than when her arm had been scarred, more than being in a car crash, more than being beat by Gerard Argent or possessed by the Nogistune. She wanted to die, for the pain to end, but he kept pressing down, flattening her ankle. She knew he was only doing it to make her scream but she couldn't stop. Her whole leg shot with pain and she felt like she was going to pass out. Hell, she would have loved to pass out.

After God knows how long, he finally lifted his foot off her ankle (or what was left of it), and they allowed her to fall backwards onto the ground. She continued to cry and scream, the pain still excruciating. She thought at this point it would hurt less to have it amputated. She lay there, rolling in pain, until her friends – Scott, Malia, Liam, Kira, and Lydia, inevitably showed up.

They attempted to approach her, but Diego stepped in front of her, shielding her from them.

"Let her go!" Scott yelled. He was trying to sound strong but Stiles could detect the fear in his voice. He could see how much pain she was in. He could feel it from her scent. All of them could.

"We will," Maximilian spoke. "As soon as you step forward and give us you power."

"You mean let you kill him?" Malia said.

"That's another way of putting it."

"Why do you want my power so badly?" Scott asked.

"I've had my own Omega pack for a while now," Maximilian explained. "And I figured it was time I became an Alpha to them, a True Alpha."

"You won't become a True Alpha if you steal his powers," Kira pointed out.

"I know!" he snapped. "But I will still be a powerful one."

There was a moment of tense silence.

"So what will it be?" he asked, speaking directly to Scott.

Scott looked at Stiles, writhing and crying on the ground. Her ankle was twisted and all messed up, he wondered if the doctors would be able to fix it. He knew he couldn't let her or her unborn baby get hurt because of him.

Stiles saw Scott's hesitation. She knew he would give up his power for her. He would die for her.

"Don't do it Scott!" she managed to yell between cries of pain. Maximilian growled at her and Diego instantly crushed her uninjured leg, snapping her shinbones. Her pack leapt forward and attacked. It was a True Alpha, a Werecoyote, a Kitsune, and a Beta Werewolf against five Omegas. Four against five. Lydia, of course, couldn't fight. So while the rest of the pack was distracted with the fight, Lydia snuck around to where Stiles lay on the ground, delirious with pain. There was no more screaming.

"Stiles?" Lydia whispered, shaking her slightly. "Stiles look at me."

Stiles eyes flittered to Lydia's face, her vision blurry.

"Lydia?" she said.

"Yes it's me," Lydia responded. "Listen, I'm going to drag you out of here, and it's going to hurt like hell, but to you've got to be quiet, okay?"

"Okay," Stiles mumbled, on the brink of unconsciousness.

Lydia grabbed her by the shirt and began pulling her across the ground away from the fight. The pain from her broken legs being dragged along was enough to make her scream, but she bit her hand as hard she could to resist the urge.

Suddenly, Lydia released her grip from Stiles shoulders and there was silence. She waited for something to happen, and then twisted around to look at Lydia, who was standing deadly still, staring straight ahead.

"Lydia?" she said, not sure what was going on.

Seconds later, Lydia screamed. Not a normal scream, but the scream of a Banshee.

Stiles looked ahead and saw before her Diego. He had followed them. He was torn and bloody from the fight, but still a thousand times stronger than both of them put together and thirsty for blood.

Lydia grabbed Stiles again and dragged her as fast as she could.

"Lydia leave me!" she yelled. "Run!"

Diego leapt forward and grabbed Stiles by her broken ankle, causing her to yelp in pain again. He yanked her leg, releasing her from Lydia's grip and pulling her closer to him, so close that he was basically on top of her. He raised a clawed hand, ready to slash her exposed throat, and Stiles braced herself for death. She cradled her stomach gently, silently apologizing to her unborn baby for not being able to protect it properly.

There was a loud, frightening growl from out of nowhere, and Diego was promptly pushed off of Stiles. She turned over; expecting to see Scott or Kira or Liam or Malia, but it was Derek. He wasn't in his full wolf form, but he was still a werewolf. He approached Diego and they engaged in a fight. It didn't last long. Derek was too powerful and angry for Diego. It was a few hits and scratches, and he was out cold on the ground.

Derek took no time or pride after his victory, instead he walked straight over to Stiles and lifted her up in his arms. He and Lydia raced through the woods to the road, where Lydia's car was parked. Lydia got in the driver's seat while Derek and Stiles got in the back. She drove quickly through town as Stiles screamed and moaned. Derek did his best to help ease her pain, though there was only so much he could do before he himself was severely weakened. They were at the hospital in no time, and Lydia got out of the car in front of the emergency room to go and get help.

Left alone, Derek softly stroked her hair.

"I'm not leaving you Stiles," he whispered. "I'm not leaving either of you."

Stiles wasn't sure if he was talking about her and Lydia or her and the baby. It didn't matter at that moment. The doctors rushed out to the car, put her on a stretcher, and raced her inside to the emergency room.

"Is this Miss Stilinski?" the doctor asked.

"Yes," Lydia said.

"Where did you find her?"

"We were driving around town looking for her and we found her on the side of the road, I think she was mugged," Lydia lied. "She's pregnant."

"We know."

Stiles felt something pinch her forearm and was hit with an instant drowsiness and flooded with relief. The pain was still there but she was far away from it. The doctors took her into another room where they cut off the rest of her cast and thoroughly examined her, x-rays and all that. Her Dad arrived as they were giving her an ultrasound. The baby was a little distressed, but otherwise healthy. It was strong.

"Stiles?" it was her Dad, he grasped her hand. "Stiles I'm right here. Is she okay?" He was speaking to the doctor now.

"We can't be sure yet. She has a concussion and her baby is fine, but it's her legs we're worried about," he explained. "The shinbones on her right leg – the tibia and fibula – have both been snapped and will need to be in a cast for at least 8 weeks. As for left ankle, we need to operate immediately. It's been severely crushed and we need to correct it before it's too late."

"Too late for what?" the Sheriff demanded.

"We have to warn you right now, Sheriff, she may lose her ankle," the doctor said. Her Dad looked at her as they began pulling her away in the stretcher, towards the operating room.

"You'll be okay, Stiles," he said, his voice uncertain. "You're a Stilinski, you're strong."

Stiles tried to sit up, to say something to her father, but she was too weak. She let the morphine consume, she enjoyed it. She didn't know what she was going to wake up to, or if she was going to wake up at all. Would she lose her ankle? Would her friends still be alive? Would her baby be okay? These questions could only be answered when the operation was over, and the sooner she was asleep, the better. She closed her eyes, and let the fog take her.


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20**

Stiles wasn't exactly "with it" when she awoke from surgery. Her head injury was worse than they initially thought, and she had trouble staying conscious for long periods of time, so she was put an induced coma to help her head heal. It was like being in a deep sleep. She had insurmountable dreams that were all so vivid and whacky, like an acid trip. She was in an ignorant and peaceful bliss until she was broke out of the coma, and even then, her mind still wasn't totally together. She felt as if she had been sleeping for years. Once awake, she continued to sleep a lot. She was just so tired. One evening she woke from a nap, aware of her surroundings for the first time since her surgery. Her conscious and the rest of her body were finally one again. She was in a hospital room, not alike any she had seen at Beacon Hills Memorial. Out the window she could see tall buildings. She was in a city.

Her memories came back to her in a flood. The Omegas, her friends, Derek, her legs, her baby. _Her baby._ She looked down at her stomach. She was definitely bigger. That was a good thing, right? That meant it had grown, that she hadn't lost it. Her eyes moved slowly to her legs. She braced herself for what she might see. She was on so many drugs she couldn't really feel anything below her waist. Her legs were both in thick, heavy casts strapped to a belt that were elevating them off the bed so her body was in an obtuse angle. She couldn't see her actual feet as her legs were so casted up, but she knew they were both still attached. She sighed with relief. She looked around the room, her mind very groggy. She turned her head to the side her saw her father, the Sheriff, uncomfortably asleep in a chair at her bedside. He looked awful, and smelt like it too.

"Dad," she whispered, snapping him to attention immediately. He leaned forward and grasped her hand.

"Hey kiddo," he said. "You're finally with it."

"What's going on?" she asked, confused. "What happened?"

"Everything's okay," he said to calm her. "We're in San Francisco, they had to put you in an induced coma for a bit and work on your legs. It's been four weeks.

"Oh," she breathed. "Where's everyone else?"

"They're fine. Just taking care of things back in Beacon Hills. Derek's been here though to protect you."

"Derek? Hale?"

"Yeah, I was just as surprised as you are. I know how much you hate him. He's been good, I must admit, has barely left this room."

She looked around, but didn't see him.

"What about the baby?" she asked.

"Baby is fine. You're 20 weeks now, halfway through. They kept asking me if I wanted to know the sex but I said I'd wait until you woke up," he explained.

"The sex? They know if it's a boy or girl?"

"Yep. Did you want to know? Or are you waiting until it's was born?"

"I hadn't really decided," she admitted. "I'll think about it."

They continued to talk for hours. The Sheriff told her about all the surgeries she'd had. Her left ankle was being held together with pins and wires. They were still unsure whether they would have to amputate it, but for now they were doing their best. Her right shinbones had to be reset. She was going to be off her feet for a very, very long time. He then told her everything that had happened in Beacon Hills since the night with the Omegas. Scott dedicated every waking minute to catching them, which he did. They were now imprisoned in the supernatural section of Eichen House. They wouldn't be bothering her anytime soon. She preferred they were dead, but Eichen House would have to do.

After a while, the doctor came in to give her some pain relief and talk a bit about her injuries. She didn't understand half of it but it all sounded very serious. The main concern now was her ankle. If the pins and wires didn't set and hold it together properly within the next month or so, she would have to lose her foot. Plus her baby would need close monitoring. Her body had gone through so much in the past couple of months that the doctor though it was a miracle she hadn't lost it. She knew it was because he or she wasn't a normal baby. It was strong, like its father. The doctor said she would have to stay in hospital for at least another month, and then move to a private care facility. It suddenly dawned on her that all this was going to cost an absolute fortune, and she panicked.

"I'm guessing our insurance doesn't cover all this," she said nervously. The doctor laughed.

"Oh there's no need to worry about that, Miss Stilinski, all your expenses have been more than covered. You don't need to worry about a thing," he told her.

"I don't understand."

Her father leaned forward.

"Derek offered to pay for all the treatment," he said.

"He did? Why?" she asked. Now she was really nervous.

"Well, he _is _loaded. Felt sorry for you I guess," he replied._ Phew_, Stiles thought, he doesn't know Derek is the father.

"I'll have to thank him for that."

"Now to the matter of your baby's sex," the doctor continued. "We need to do another scan, so we can show you if you like?"

Stiles still wasn't sure. She didn't care what the baby's sex was; she was just relieved it was still here. But she could tell by the look on the Sheriff's excited face that he wanted to know whether he was going to be getting a granddaughter or not.

"Yeah, okay, let's do it," she smiled. The Sheriff beamed with excitement.

Because Stiles was in such a delicate condition, the doctor had to have the ultrasound equipment brought to her. Her hospital gown was lifted up and the cold gel applied to her round stomach. Within seconds, an image of her baby was on the screen.

"Looks like you've got a thumbsucker," the doctor said. He pointed out the baby's hand going into its mouth.

"And the sex?" the Sheriff asked, barely able to contain himself. The doctor double checked, moving around the ultrasound so he could get a better look.

"It's a girl," he said. "Definitely a girl."

The Sheriff cheered and kissed Stiles on the forehead. "I told you!" he clapped his hands. "I knew it'd be a girl."

Stiles realized she genuinely hadn't cared either way, but she was kind of glad it was a girl if it made her father so happy.

"She's very healthy, everything's completely normal," the doctor said. "I'll print you out a copy."

The doctor wiped the gel off her stomach and got her the picture, then left her and her Dad alone. The Sheriff couldn't stop staring at the picture.

"Mini-Stiles," he breathed.

"We'll have to think of an actual name eventually," she said.

Now that Stiles was awake and well, the Sheriff agreed to shower and get some rest back at motel next to the hospital, after much persuasion. The minute he left, Stiles turned on her side and fell asleep.

When she awoke once more, it wasn't her father sitting in the armchair beside her, it was Derek. He was looking at the ultrasound picture, staring intently at it.

"Hi," she whispered. His head whipped up and he put the photo aside. He dragged the chair closer to her.

"Hi."

Stiles didn't know what to say next. What grounds were they on?

"It's a girl," she blurted out. Derek raised his eyebrows.

"What?"

"The baby, the doctor said it's a girl," she explained.

"Oh," he frowned, thinking about the information.

"You don't have to be here," she told him. He moved closer, holding her hand in his and gently stroking her hair with the other.

"I told you I wouldn't leave you," he said. He looked at her stomach. "My girls."

Stiles wanted to cry, but she was mad at him. She was always mad at Derek Hale.

"I don't want you here," she snapped. "You're too unreliable."

"I won't be from now on, I promise."

"You're promises don't mean anything to me," she continued. "All you've done is brought me trouble. I'm sorry but I don't want you around this baby. I have to protect my daughter."

"Our daughter, Stiles. She's mine too."

"She has no father," Stiles almost barks. She can see that Derek is hut, though she won't let up.

"You're going to need my help."

"Help to fuck up her life? No thanks. I've seen what this supernatural world does to people; I won't let her be a part of that."

"She's already a part of it," Derek said. "She's going to be a werewolf."

"I'll cross that bridge when I come to it."

"So that's it then? You want me gone?" Derek asked.

"Yes."

There was a moment of tense silence before Derek smiled.

"Well, I'm staying. And there's nothing you can do about it."


	21. Chapter 21

**CHAPTER 21**

The following few months were gruelling for Stiles. Scott, Kira, Lydia and Malia all moved to San Francisco for college, so they were nearby. They visited her regularly and told her about college life. She felt a twinge of envy, but was kind of glad she couldn't go to college. Her days were spent lying in bed, watching television or reading a book. Scott eventually set up an Xbox for her so she had something else to do. After four weeks, the doctor confirmed that her ankle wasn't going to be amputated. She was moved to a private care facility just outside the city, to a spot where she had a beautiful view of pine forest outside her window. The Sheriff had to return to Beacon Hills, he only had so many holidays he could use up. It was better when she was in private care. She had her own room and a large flat screen and all the food she wanted.

Derek never left her side. He ate with her, slept next to her, made sure she had everything she needed. She was still furious with him, but gradually, she accepted his help. Though her legs were healing, she was also getting bigger and her stomach was making her uncomfortable. She had to frequently use the bathroom, which was a hassle because she couldn't go by herself, but Derek was always there. She got intense food cravings and he always got her whatever she wanted. She was eventually allowed to use a wheelchair, and he took her outside for fresh air and sunshine. After fourteen weeks of being bedridden, and in her thirty-fourth week of pregnancy, Stiles's casts were removed and she began the hardest part of her recovery: rehab.

Trying to walk again was hard enough, but doing it heavily pregnant was excruciating, yet Stiles was determined to be on her own two feet before the baby arrived, which was only six weeks away. She had two hours of physical therapy every day. Derek was always there, helping her out. It was frustrating for Stiles, not being able to walk, to have her legs fail every time she put her feet on the ground. It was three weeks before she was able to walk with the help of crutches, and even then she was falling a lot. After physical therapy one evening, Derek helped her climb into bed when he noticed she was crying.

"Are you okay?" he asked. "Are you hurt?"

She sniffled and wiped a tear away from her cheek.

"No. I'm not fine," she cried.

"What's wrong?"

Stiles began to sob and her words were almost incomprehensible.

"I can't do this," she said. "I don't know why I thought I could."

"But you're doing so well," Derek reassured her. "You'll be on your feet in no time."

"I don't mean that. I mean being a mother – having this baby. I can't do it."

He rubbed her forehead, which was covered with sweat from the therapy session.

"You'll be a great Mom, Stiles," he told her. "If anyone can do it, you can."

She stopped crying for a moment and turned to face him.

"I don't know if I _want_ to. I want to have this baby…but I don't want to be a mother."

Derek leaned back in his chair, deep in thought. Stiles rubbed her rounded stomach gently.

"I think I want to speak to a social worker about adoption," she said.

"No way, Stiles," Derek protested. "I understand where you're coming from, but it's too dangerous to give her to an unknowing family. They won't know how to take care of her when she becomes a werewolf."

"What am I supposed to do?" Stiles cried again.

"I'll take her," Derek said. Stiles half-laughed.

"You? Yeah right."

Derek shrugged. "She's my daughter."

"No offence, you're not exactly father material. I appreciate you helping me out the past few months, but it ends there."

"She's my daughter too, Stiles, I you can't make all the decisions. If you give her up, I'll just file for custody, and they'll give her to me because she's mine."

"You'd be willing to admit that everyone?" Stiles asked. "That you were the father of this baby? You'd say it to Scott…to my Dad?"

"Of course I would."

Stiles hadn't been expecting that answer.

"Yeah, well, I don't want them to know."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm ashamed! If my Dad finds out that his granddaughter is going to be a werewolf…it'll destroy him. All he's wanted for me is to get away from that life."

"Then give her to me," Derek repeats.

"NO," Stiles snaps. "I'm giving her up."

"Then what? Just let her turn into a werewolf when she's a teenager? She could hurt someone. She'll be terrified. Or were you planning on finding her and saying 'hi, I'm your Mom. Oh by the way, you're a werewolf'?"

"Maybe."

"Stiles, we have to take of this. It's our responsibility."

"I should've just had an abortion," she cries. "I was in way over my head to believe I could handle this."

Derek got up from his chair and sat beside her on the bed, cradling her in his arms as she sobbed uncontrollably.

"We don't have to decide this now, we still have time," he said.

"We only have three weeks!" she cried.

Derek continued to hold her, gently stroking her hair until she drifted off to sleep. He sat beside her, watching her face as she dreamed. He was not going to let his daughter be given away. He couldn't stand the thought of someone else holding her, of her calling another man her father. He wanted her. He already felt such a strong connection to her that he could barely leave Stiles' side without worrying about her. He cared for Stiles, but he was prepared to do anything it took to keep his daughter, even if it meant going against what Stiles wanted. He knew he needed to start preparing for his girl's arrival.


End file.
